Hats and Ribbons
by SnappsLeilani
Summary: Ch 12-it's...IT'S ALIVE! So good to drop another chapter again! What a tangle Alice and Hatter are in! But they aren't the only denziens of Wonderland ready to dethrone the false Queen of Hearts.
1. Chapter 1 Mirror, Mirror

**Mirror, Mirror**

Alice stood in front of her full-length, oval mirror. It was her nineteenth birthday and she should have been pleased with the woman staring back at her: at how far she'd come since her "imaginative" 9-year-old self. At least that's what her mother said. And her sister. And her tutors. Her father was mercifully quiet about how "sensible" she had become.

No, Alice was not pleased. While her mother, sister and the others were downstairs cooing at her guests, at how _accomplished_ she was, and how _composed_ her countenance was, her father stood silently outside the door of his sad, lonely daughter's room. She knew he was there. He was always there when she had to face particularly horrible family gatherings. And her birthdays were always the worst.

The soft knock at her door was not impatient, but more like a warning: almost time for her appearance. She cast one last look over her reflection. Quiet sapphire eyes rimmed by black lashes gazed blankly at her from beneath a curtain of very straight, dark brown hair that faded to auburn at the tips. Her mouth was set in a very unmoving line. No emotion there either. Her sapphire dress with black velvet ties and trimmings looked slightly flattering, but muted by her unmoving body. The long black boots with the leather toes peeking out beneath the dress hem were good for the cold November evening air, and a long black coat with a high, almost Asian collar was draped across her dresser-top. "Might as well be a wooden puppet," she mused. "Though I'd be more entertaining carved out of wood at the moment..."

The clock on the wall behind her ticked ominously. The chess table reflected in the mirror from the center of her room, half played through in one of the solitary games Alice amused herself with. A motley of books—some worn through much use, some fresh-bought, and many somewhere in between—were stacked haphazardly beside her bed. Next to the books, on her nightstand was set a small, dainty tea service. And over the mantle for her fireplace was a painting so dark in color that one could only scarce make out that it was a tea party. Some smoldering ember of a living girl lit up in Alice's eyes as she settled her gaze on its reflection in the mirror, but the ember soon faded.

She reached down to lovingly stroke Dinah, her very aged gray cat, and grabbed the coat from her dresser-top. Only last year she would have taken Dinah—an understanding and undemanding dinner companion—down the stairs with her to make the tedious social niceties fly by quicker. But one could scarcely handle the old cat anymore, so frail was she getting. Alice had kept the mischievous feline with her since she was three, and Dinah only a kitten. She cast her companion a sad, crooked smile as she opened her door , stepping out into the hall and towards her waiting father.

Patrick Hervey steeled himself to look into the ever-distant face of his younger daughter. Just as it did every time, her heavy expression made his heart break a little more. The only balm he had for the wound was that she only showed _him_ this face. Everyone else was treated to a proper smile, proper remarks, proper laughter, proper sympathies. At least she could share this much with him, even if she couldn't share her sadness with him. It had been six years since they both had lost the light of their lives. William. But while Alice lost her best friend and little brother, Patrick didn't know how to tell Alice that he'd lost not only his son, but most of his daughter.

And Alice didn't know how to tell her father—the last person that loved her—that she had lost not only her little brother, but in him the only person who ever believed her.

They said nothing as they descended the stairs together.

A/N: Good morning! Afternoon! Well, it was morning when I started. This is my first shot at publishing anything for anyone else to see. I've got a couple of chapters ready, and I promise to put them up as quickly as I can. Please, please do r&r. Criticism makes the aspiring writer's world go 'round. Constructive criticism makes my ego shut the heck up long enough to fix things for your enjoyment. Toodles! ---Snapps


	2. Chapter 2 The Uninvited Guest

**The Uninvited Guest**

The guests sat at the supper-table fawning over her dress, over the meal they were all eating, over the pile of presents on the parlor table. They even fawned over the mild, _splendid_ fall evening. Everything was just _wonderful_ or _marvelous_ or _splendid_. Alice could have sicked on the table if she thought she would be able to bear the mock sympathy it would bring. No, she would smile, agree, nod, reply, smile, nod, smile, reply, repeat, repeat. From time to time she would amuse herself by insulting one or several guests through a series of compliments. "Alice!" Mary Elise raised her glass, "I have a toast to you!" She clinked her glass delicately with her spoon, fluffed her curls excitedly and announced: "May your wits and poise remain strong while you're off at university!"

Mary Elise knew nothing of wit, nor poise, nor did she care at all for Alice's future, but standing up to make the toast would help show off her expensive silk dress and the very low cut at the neckline. Yet she had tried so _hard _to sound intelligent it almost made Alice sorry for what was coming to her. But Mary Elise had a habit of heatedly pursuing her friends' beaus, then tossing them to the side once she'd torn apart any chance of their former relationships. Sooo...

"And may your fiancé turn out to be everything you _truly_ deserve!" Alice replied. Bert, the fiancé her parents had arranged for their daughter, was as cold, cruel, and jealous as a man could be all at once. And he was a mere clerk who was _supposed_ to get a good inheritance. So he managed to convince her parents. Mary Elise was as good as boxed up for life. Her face went tight, as did the faces of the other young ladies at the table to whom Mary Elise shared her woes. The few gentlemen nodded appreciatively, as they knew nothing of Bert. The young affianced smiled and batted her eyelashes at everyone, sitting down quickly.

Alice's mother, Clarice Hervey, picked up on none of this. And worse, Clarice was as good at Alice's game as Alice was herself. But unlike Alice, Clarice Hervey never knew she was insulting. "Oh thank you, Mary! Why, I don't think Alice could hope to ever make a friend better than you and these other fine young ladies!"

Alice almost choked. It was horribly true. She really couldn't expect anything better than the company she was now seated with. This was as close to "companionship" as she had been with her peers over the past six years. They hadn't changed. Neither had she. And there was nothing in any of them to bridge the huge gap. Alice was different. Some said she was "mentally unwell" when she was a child because of the stories she told. And those were the kind rumors. No amount of her propriety made her warm to the people who considered her still "touched in the head." And many of these girls would be attending university with her. The rumors would spread from her little town all through the campus. This was, indeed, the best she could hope for. She looked around the table from happy vacant stare to bored indifference to spiteful pout, over and over. Clarice had to be one of the most unwittingly cruel women ever to live. And so sadly right.

Alice wished she could cry.

"If we are all done with dinner, let's repair to the parlor for some tea." That was Marissa, Alice's ridiculously lovely sister, rising from her place across the table. Marissa was a far sight smarter than their mother. When it was clear that Alice's "condition" was not going to get any better, Marissa did the smart thing. She put miles of emotional – and physical – distance between herself and her mentally ill sibling. That move had won her the handsome husband who rose at her side, and good social standing. _Bravo_, thought the younger sister, and not for the first time.

Alice stiffly stood from the table and all but marched to the parlor. Her father somehow managed to get right behind her and rest his hand on her back. It was enough to draw some of the tension from her shoulders. When they all found their places in the parlor, Patrick had made it a point to sit beside his daughter. Alice was somewhat surprised. He was rarely so open about his comfort and support for her. In fact, he usually kept to the opposite side of the room so the two could exchange long-suffering glances or catch each others' eye in glee when Alice landed a particularly acid remark on a particularly nasty guest.

Alice was surprised at how warm she felt at her father's nearness right now. She wondered if he was already missing her as much as she was missing him, despite her departure for university being several months away. A real smile started around her mouth. Patrick caught it out of the corner of his eye. His smile mirrored hers. As the rest of the guests took their places at the various couches, sofas and divans around the room, he turned to say something, anything to his daughter. Just to keep that real smile on her face a little longer...

_Diiiiiing Dong._

Heads all over the room shot up, looking towards the foyer and the front door. Who on earth would come so late to a party? Were any of the invited guests not accounted for? Hushed chatter started up around the room. Alice's sister rose and started to head for the door. "Wait!" Alice called, "I'll get it! It's probably a friend from school or something!" Patrick felt acute disappointment at the missed opportunity to speak with her, but then, what did he have to say?

In truth Alice had no one from school that she expected to come, save the ones already present. And those had been coerced into coming by either Alice's mother or their own parents.

It was the only true surprise she was likely to get for her birthday, and she intended to get the most she could out of it.

But when she opened the door it was no one she could ever remember knowing. Yet when she laid eyes on the young man standing rigidly at the door, she felt a jolt in her belly and tears stinging her eyes... as though she did know him. As though she missed him.

He was taller than her by several inches, but not so much as he seemed at first, for he was so thin as to be exceedingly lanky. He looked as though he'd been stretched by his hair and toes so that everything in between was long. His face was a bit long, his torso, arms, legs, even feet. Alice scarcely saw the black pants, the black vest or the long white coat. Her eyes were darting between his ice-blue eyes and the black and white striped top hat with a 10/6 stuck in the black band around it. Then she took in the red-maroon hair that had been obviously just been chopped off handful by handful, completely unevenly. Even then, it trailed a ways over his shoulders. After a moment she noticed that his face looked fake. He looked as though he had put a thick layer of pale makeup over his face, but well enough that it almost matched the rest of his skin.

After several seconds of just looking at him, neither inviting him in nor sending him away, nor even greeting him, he finally grinned a nutty little grin and made a gracious bow. "Shall I sit at your tea uninvited, Alice, or are you going to un-uninvite me?"

The voice was slightly high-pitched for a man, but still almost melodious. Except that he clipped words unexpectedly so one never knew if he was done speaking mid-sentence or if the was just pausing. He tilted his head up from his bow, still bending from the waist, and cocked his head to the side at her.

"Alice? Dear, who is at the door? Why don't you invite in our guest?" _Mother is calling from the parlor. _

Alice leaned her face closer to the young man's, an utterly perplexed expression on her face, as though she'd misplaced him somewhere in her mind and was having to shuffle some items around to find him.

"Alice?" _Father this time. And he's concerned_. "Yes, yes we're coming, Father, Mother!" was all Alice managed to reply, though she still didn't let go of the door handle and still didn't invite the man in.

He grasped her hand on the door handle and pushed it a bit farther open to let himself in, then transferred her hand to the crook of his arm, patting it staccato, as though tapping out some odd rhythm that no one but he could hear. His grin widened even more. He just looked so...

_Happy._

The thought was the first coherent one to enter Alice's mind. He looked as though he had a day pass from an asylum, but he really looked _happy_, too. She found herself smiling back, though her brows were still mostly knit in perplexity. She knew him? He knew her name. She should know him...

He all but pulled her along into the parlor on his arm, stopping abruptly just as they reached full view of all the guests. Alice hadn't stopped staring at him, and he was looking around the room cheerily, seemingly soaking up all the different faces. Finally Clarice broke the silence. "Er, do come in and join us, young man. You must be a friend of Alice's, but I don't believe we've met." She advanced across the room, stretching out her hand to him. He took it with his free hand and held it up in front of his lips, still grinning maniacally but not moving to kiss it or to shake it. After a moment Clarice cleared her throat and continued. "I'm Clarice Hervey, Alice's mother, and this is my husband, Patrick Hervey," she stammered on, gesturing towards Patrick. He still didn't release her hand, but began to giggle just a little. The other guests began to whisper very quietly, so Clarice once again stepped in. "And you are?"

"Mad!" the young man replied.

"Matt! Yes, good to meet you, Matt!" This time it was father, crossing the room to shake 'Matt's' hand.

'Matt' abruptly dropped Clarice' hand and took Patrick's. Patrick shook his hand vigorously then dropped it, so as not to allow the young man to retain his grip. But he needn't have worried, for the next second 'Matt' clapped his hands together and locked eyes with the servants helping to lay out the tea, who had stopped in mid-task at his entrance. "TEA!! I really AM just in time, aren't I?"

He picked up a cup, then started to help hand out the rest. This spurred the servants into action and between them they managed to finish serving.

Patrick, meantime, had taken his daughter back to the sofa with him and sat her down. She looked pale and slightly shocked, and he was feeling little better himself. He remembered all too well the stories Alice told when she was young, though he was certain that they were creative imaginings of his daughter's already bright and witty mind. He didn't know who this young man was, but he obviously knew of his daughter's stories and was causing more than a bit of a uproar in his home. And in his daughter. She watched in fascination as he balanced three cups, three saucers and a small teapot towards their sofa.

He plunked said items on the small table in front of the sofa and promptly wedged himself on the other side of Alice. Picking up the pot, he then poured out tea for the three of them. He held up his cup to the room, and everyone tried to follow suit, filling their cups. But before the first person could sip, he slammed his cup down and shouted "CHANGE!"

Alice was yanked forcefully from her seat, looking more surprised by the moment. Unfortunately, her father was still grasping her other arm, so he, too, was hauled to his feet. The three managed to topple the small table as "Matt" led them around the room, unseating most of the other guests and breaking china left and right on his way around.

He stopped in front of the couch where Mary Elise was sitting with her boon fellow gossipers, Isabella and Jane. Hauling each of them from their seats and thrusting them towards the center of the room. Croaking and sputtering, the three landed in a heap.

Just as he managed to pull Alice down onto the couch next to him, the rest of the room went into an uproar of people trying to help the ladies up, people making excuses to leave (or just hauling up skirts and hats and making a mad dash for the door), and gentlemen demanding loudly that "Matt" beg pardon of the ladies he had wronged.

"Matt" made to sip his tea, but finding the noise too distracting, he tossed his cup across the room. The resounding crash it made as it went through the china cabinet window brought silence to the room.

"Much better!" he exclaimed cheerily.

Alice started laughing.

No pretense of excuse was made as the remaining guests elbowed past one another to get out the front door.

When the last had finally made it out, Alice finally managed to subdue herself somewhat. "Oh what fun! I've not laughed like that in so long!"

The young man turned his head slowly to her and said quietly, "I suppose then you're not made of wood, to be able to laugh so."

Alice went instantly silent, searching the ice-blue eyes.

"I shall call the police immediately!" Clarice said in a strained voice. Patrick made to intercept her. This was the first time in six years his daughter had shown signs of life and he wanted to know exactly what was going on before he got the authorities involved. He caught Marissa and her husband before they could interrupt Alice and Hatter.

Marissa just stared at her smiling sister and the clearly crazed man sitting next to her in the rubble that was once an orderly tearoom. "Right as two peas in a pod," she whispered. Her husband heard her. "Darling, I'm going to remove this man from the house. You stay here."

"Oh, you'll do no such thing. You will find my hat and coat, and we will depart immediately."

He stood stunned, ready to argue. Marissa looked at the two once more, and smiled slowly before turning to the man next to her. "Darling, you know nothing of my family, least of all my sister. I like it that way, I'm going to keep it that way. Suffice it to say, I am content with the situation here – yes, just as it is-" she said, quickly, holding a hand to his chest before he could protest, "- and, as this is my family and my business, you'll attend my wishes. We're leaving." She hooked an arm through his, kissed the cheek of her sputtering mother, and nodded at her staring father. "Good evening, Mother, Father. I had a lovely evening. We simply must do this again sometime."

She grinned a little at her father before all but pulling her husband out of the room. Over her shoulder, she called, "Happy birthday, little sister!"

Alice didn't notice. The man's eyes were icy and almost white, intense and focused only on her. "Ah, Miss Alice _does_ think she's made of wood? But even wood was once alive, and grew as a tree and felt the cool breezes and watched the moon above. And you are not so much made of wood, are you little Alice? In fact, your wooden mask is only this deep," he said just over a whisper, tracing a line from the outer edge of her eye down to her jaw-bone. A tear's path. He rocked his head from side to side, like a time-clock's pendulum, but never broke his gaze. "No, not so deep at all...no. No little marionette is our little Alice, is she?"

Sapphire eyes widening slowly, Alice breathed, "Oh my...oh... Oh dear... It's you..." She couldn't even make the sound pass her lips, "Hatter."

A.N. Hello again! I figure now is as good a time as any to cover a few points:

- I didn't keep the name "Alice Liddell" from Lewis Carroll's family acquaintance that the character Alice is taken from. Personal preference.

- The rating is "M" because things will get _very _compromising in later chapters. And the chapters will get longer.

- I would love to hear your thoughts on this. I swear my only works I've let another human being read have been magazine articles and college essays. I need input. ^_^


	3. Chapter 3 A Different Point of Veiw

**A Different Point of View**

Not since Hatter had entered had Alice been able to pull up the memories of Wonderland. Every memory of the place brought back memories of every story she had confided in William. When everyone else had laughed or remonstrated her, Alice could only tell him. And even after admitting that Hatter was there, once again alive and before her, she tried to keep the memories of him back. But the touch of Hatter's finger against her cheek opened a floodgate. Suddenly she could cry. Suddenly she knew she wouldn't be able to stop.

Jumping away from Hatter, she tripped and stumbled up the stairs to her room. She didn't even shut the door. Her chest felt like it was going to pull itself apart as the first wail of remorse hit her.

"_Alice, what's this in your pocket?" William asked._

"_It's the thimble that the dodo bird gave to me. Gave _back_ to me, I suppose..." Alice responded._

"_Then this proves it! We can tell them it was all real! They'll have to believe you about Wonderland, now!" William was so ecstatic he looked as though he could bounce, if only his legs worked well enough. But they'd never worked, and never would._

"_It doesn't _prove_ anything, William. I had it in my pocket before I left." _

"_But your currants are all gone, and you gave them to the other birds in the caucus race, when all of you won!" _

_Alice ruffled her little brother's hair, not bothering to stop him as he continued to search her apron pockets. He stopped suddenly, and pulled out two morsels, one from each pocket. _

_  
"Alice...didn't you put the pieces of the caterpillar's mushroom in your pockets? One to make you bigger, one to make you smaller..."_

_  
"Why, I did, didn't I!? Did you find them?"_

_William held out the two small morsels, his hands shaking in delight. The mushroom pieces were iridescent purple and orange, unlike anything in this world either of the small children had seen. They gasped in wonder, eager to show their proof to Mother and Father._

Downstairs Patrick saw Alice run up the stairs and knew he had to act quickly. He reached towards the phone, just inside the kitchen. Before Clarice could reach it he ripped the cord and box from the wall, then bodily moved his wife out of his way as he made to run after Alice.

Hatter, meanwhile, adjusted his sleeves nonchalantly and went to the base of the steps. When Patrick reached him, the lank man suddenly thrust his arm in Patrick's way. Hatter's arm hit Patrick forcefully in the chest. As Patrick gasped for breath, Hatter made an about-face towards the older man.

"You had many, many years to comfort her: to talk to her." A grin broke Hatter's face. "My turn!" He waved jauntily to Alice's father, then made his way up the stairs.

Hatter let the door click quietly shut behind him, then surveyed the situation before him. He had seen this room so many times before. But from quite a different angle. From this angle, it looked bigger. Hmmm. Very interesting.

Far more interesting was the young woman, looking little more than a child now, curled on her bed with a small, framed painting clutched in her lap. He'd seen it many times. It was the one hung above her mantle. But the batty child was holding it face-side-down.

He crossed to her bed, making to turn it around for the poor creature, when he noticed that there was something on the back of it that she was actually facing. Not that she was looking at it. Her tear-stained face was resting against the top edge, her tears trickling down onto the hidden picture. Hatter moved to sit behind her to see the picture. She didn't seem to notice.

It was made with some kind of finger paint, obviously by a very young child.

It was him, Hatter. Well, him and March Hare and Door Mouse. And Alice. He smiled. If anyone had seen the painting, they would never have recognized him as the Hatter. He was positively sane-looking.

Awkwardly, he tried to lay his hand on her back. Automatically Alice turned into the touch and made to nestle into the crook of what she thought was her father's arm. Hatter was a bit taken-aback, but didn't want to startle her away. Damn it, he'd waited long enough just to get here, he couldn't go frightening her off.

She seemed to realize it wasn't her father, but she didn't pull away. It was Hatter! He was here! And she wasn't a nut, she wasn't a difficult child. New tears wet her cheek, but these were quieter.

"Er, you were quite an artist once, weren't you, Alice?"

Alice pulled away just a bit, looking up at him with sapphire eyes so full of old pain that Hatter cringed, then just tried to stay still. "Not me. Mine is on the front. This one was William's."

Hatter took in the rumpled corners and the ruled lines that you could just make out on the edges. He smiled softly, but on his face it looked like a slow and wicked grin. He spoke quietly, "This was the day he found your homework, and decided to make it 'prettier'."

Alice's head shot up from his shoulder, grazing his chin. Her eyes were wide, disbelief warring with the grief.

"I wondered what you'd done with it after you tickled the boy half out of his senses for ruining your arithmetic. I guess I just didn't see you put it in here." Hatter turned his sharp-focused eyes on her, idly scratching the tip of his nose. Seeing her reaction, he tocked his head to the side, "Well, you can't expect me to wile _all_ my hours away looking through your Mirror, can you?" He jerked a thumb at her full-sized mirror, the one she's been standing at not so long ago. Tapping his nose thoughtfully, and gazing at her incredulous eyes and reconsidered, "I suppose you can, if you wish. Hm."

Then, as though the inactivity was too much, he hopped off the bed and strode to her closet. "You know, I've always wondered!" he announced, proceeding to open the door and fling things about in there. "I just can't see it from my usual point of view..."

Boots and ribbons came flying out, along with a pretty pink and white gown. Before the gown could reach the ground, Hatters long fingers came flying out behind him, and he snatched the light material back close to his face, examining it. He pulled it up by the shoulders to himself, as if to see how it would fit him. He glowered at it, then held it up in front of Alice, who was still too dumbstruck to speak. The frills and lace seemed to try to swallow her head whole.

The madman shook his head, and wagged the dress under Alice's nose. "Dont. Ever. Let. Me. Catch. You. Wearing. This. Filth," he gritted out, then flung it back at the closet.

Suddenly there was a rattling of the doorknob, and then a loud banging, "Alice! Alice are you all right? Here, now, open this door!"

"Father..." Alice whispered, seeming to come out of her daze. "You locked the door?" she asked the wiry man in front of her. He only shrugged, rolling his eyes in great exaggeration.

She went to unlock it, but Hatter held her back a moment. "You know he can't help you, Alice. He's not mad. Not like you and I are. Not like William was. Not like your mother was."

A.N. - I'm sorry for such a short chapter. It seems exposition is a bit difficult for me to get through... I began this story a few years ago, forgot I started it, then picked it up recently. I'm just trying to make sure the facts stay straight. I'm off to work on Chapter 4, but wanted to put something up tonight.

A thousand thanks to Vinders, my first reviewer. You made this hurdle far more kind than I'd hoped the occasion to be! Your wish is my command, I'm updating soon for you!

More hi jinx to come, stay tuned, review to your heart's content!


	4. Chapter 4 Confessions

**Confessions**

Alice caught herself and turned slowly to the Hatter. William, mad?

"What do you mean, going on about _me_ being mad? Of all the people to drop that line, you were the last I expected, and _no one_ to point fingers!" She stamped her foot at him. "Besides, William was too young to be mad, and Clarice is actually dreadfully sane!" Alice didn't notice that she hadn't said 'Mother'.

Neither of them had noticed that the banging on the door had stopped.

"Clarice? What's she got to do with any of this?" Hatter replied. They looked at each other a few more moments, the clock on the wall ticking out the seconds.

"Your mother, the Queen of Hearts, was absolutely, delightfully, wonderfully and tempestuously insa--"

Alice kicked Hatter's shin before he could finish. "Queen of _Hearts_? That ghastly woman? She didn't even deserve her suit in the deck! How you would believe that such a _monster_..." Alice trailed off as Hatter became, if possible, even more pale under his thick mask of makeup, and thrust his face down to an inch from her own.

"Say what you will about the she-devil of Diamonds, the charlatan with red paint and flimsy authority that dethroned the Heart of Wonderland and took her place. Just because you were too _stupid _as a child to tell the difference between the proper markings of the suit of hearts and her false trappings doesn't mean you can excuse your ignorance now!"

Alice got quiet again, her mind finally starting to work, instead of tossing about on a violent sea of emotion.

"You mean to say Clarice is not my Mother? And that the real Queen of Hearts was someone else? But who?"

Hatter rolled his eyes, still clearly chaffing from Alice's earlier outburst. "The Queen of Diamonds is crafty and ambitious. When her suit didn't bring her quite the prestige she thought she should have, she sought that of the Hearts. She made clever use of a pet courtier to take her place in Diamonds, and..."

He stopped for a moment, his breath catching. He looked at her longingly for just a moment. But the moment was short-lived, and his eyes grew wild and sharp again. "and when Diamonds took the robes of Hearts...then she made an example of your mother. Then...then, '_OFF WITH HER HEAD_!'" he cried, slamming his hand against the door.

The door handle abruptly started rattling again, and more insistently. Hatter glared at the door, unlocked it and wrenched it open faster than Alice could watch his hands move. "_What?_" was all he said to Alice's father, who was ashen and trembling in the doorway. With effort he reached to Alice, checking to see that she was well. Her eyes were confused and searching, but she was, to his relief, unharmed.

"Father.." she started, having trouble finding the words, "Father, Hatter isn't lying. He doesn't bother. He's mad, after all." She said the last words thoughtfully, as though this were both ample explanation and a noble state to be in. What need have the insane to quail before the inconvenience of Truth? No, the fall to madness is only stripping away the comfort of lies.

Alice read in her father's eyes that there was something to what Hatter had said. But Father always walked the thin line of never telling Alice that she was a liar, never calling her crazy, because he never wanted to hurt her. So he simply discouraged her from speaking of it. He assumed that the death of William, when Alice was only nine, was what had turned her childish stories about Wonderland into a rebellious insistence on the existence of such a place. And then there came the day she just stopped talking about it altogether.

Patrick Hervey shook his head, then turned abruptly to Hatter. "I don't know who you are, or what your purpose is, but this has gone far enough-"

Hatter interrupted the dialogue by suddenly flopping to the floor, legs spread apart, leaning back on his hands. His steel blue eyes looked nonplussed up at Alice's father, "Really, you had years. _Really._ Years to comfort. Years to explain. What _have_ you been doing?"

Alice watched as her father began to turn red, but seemed to be stumbling for words. The lean man all but sprawling along the floor wagged his head around, as though bored by the older man's inner conflict.

"Let's just skip the excuses, and skip the part where you make up something in your head to explain me away. Let's skip right to the part I'm _particularly_ curious about. Alice was nine. Alice was here, and crying. A lot. Understandably. Alice had gone to a funeral, and really _should_ be crying. But then Alice got angry, and started talking about her friends back where I'm from. Said she's promised to take William there, and now she had to get back, had to find a way to keep her promise." Hatter ticked each point out on a finger, continuing past his hand when he ran out of fingers. "Long about this time, you up and disappeared," here he snapped his head at Alice's father, who'd gone to sheet white again, his jaw clenched and eyes disbelieving. "It wasn't a day after that we saw Alice packing. We were trying to help, you see. Help her keep her promise."

Here he turned his eyes away, looking back at the painting, which was now dangling from Alice's limp fingertips, tears still lazily dripping off it's edge. Alice's eyes had become distant. For all the world, she looked like a waxwork, her tear-stained face frozen. She was looking in Hatter's direction, but clearly not seeing him.

Hatter's voice got uncharacteristically soft as he gazed at her. "She was gone, and we had risked everything to get her, to bring her back. We waited a week here, trying to hold onto Time before it collapsed. We hadn't meant to stay so long. We weren't prepared. Time, and Death, I suppose, spat us back." Here he flicked his finger, then let his arm drop at his side with a thud.

"Now, this is where _your_ story-time begins. _Where did you let that harpy take our Alice_?!?" he hissed.

Alice knew what Hatter was talking about. But no one had spoken of it in so long. Hush, hush, never tell the dirty family secret. But it wasn't Father's fault, and it was important, some part of her thought, that Hatter know. "He didn't _let_ anyone take me. He was gone, yes, but I don't know why. He told me to behave. I did." She turned to her father, slowly, but didn't register his face. Rather, she seemed to speak to the wall behind him, as though she'd rehearsed this a thousand time. "I did, Father. I swear I said nothing at all to Mother. But she bade me pack my things. I packed. And the good doctor took me away." Even now she had a hard time saying the words, and she paused, as if she felt she weren't saying them right.

Hatter was mesmerized. In all the time he'd seen her in the mirror, not once could he untangle the mystery of where she'd been when he was trying so desperately to reach her. He only saw her again, long after she'd gotten back, and the Alice he knew was gone. A silent, sickly-pale girl with bony shoulders and ever-darkening hair had taken her place.

Said girl's father, however, whipped his head to Alice and stared. "The doctor? Not your aunt?"

Alice seemed to be troubled a little at this. "Yes, my aunt. You're right, Father, of course. _Aunt-Doctor-Father Aranmula-Marione.._.went to my aunt's house...w_ith all the other sick children_...i_n the hospital _that wasn't a hospital – of course not a hospital, Father, and c_ertainly no house of anyone's aunt._ _No aunts there, but uncles. And Fathers. So fatherly is Father Marione. So good the Doctor Aranmula"_

Alice's voice seemed to twist back and forth as she jumbled the truth with the lies she'd always told. She tilted her head, looking at Hatter and really seeing him. A slow, dreadful smile was curling along the red-haired man's lips. It just grew and grew. The Cheshire cat would have been envious, Alice thought, as she began to recite. She was only three words along when Hatter joined in:

"All will be well, holy and good,

When your ribbons are done up tight

And the Doctor will cure,

And the Priest will bless,

With a mirror, a string and a knife."

And with that, Alice's mind reeled back, and she saw only Hatter's ice-blue eyes and long-stretching grin.

"_Ahhh! My dear little Alice! Your mother has told me so much about you!" the man in the long white coat said as the carriage made it's way down the road to the "retreat". Alice said nothing. Father told her to behave, and the best thing to do was say nothing, she thought._

"_Alice, you will soon learn to trust me. You see, I know your stories. And let me tell you a secret...I believe you! And so will the other people where we're going. But do keep this a secret from your mother. She would never understand. And your father, well..."_

"_I am to say I am with my aunt. Yes, Mother told me," she responded, angry at the string of lies she was already being instructed to tell, and all because she had been so naughty as to tell the truth. _

"_Where are we going, Doctor?" Alice felt a little courage come with her annoyance._

"_Do you know what the word 'asylum' means, child? It means a safe place. A retreat. A place for people to get well. You're very sad now - so sad that you are sick! - now that your brother is dead. Clarice tells me you cry yourself to sleep, and laugh yourself awake. The asylum, Kazan, will help you get better. All will be well, all will be holy and good." He patted her knee as he said this, and did not bother to remove his hand._

_Not long after he spoke these words, a large gray building with a tall iron fence all around came into view. An archway over the entry road read "Kazan Asylum"_

Patrick wondered if he was having a heart attack. He didn't know what the words of the rhyme meant, but he knew _exactly_ where Alice had been. _Kazan..._

The only thing keeping him aloft was his hatred, and it was growing. And where was the bitch now? "Clarice. CLARICE!!" His angry bellow echoed down the stairs.

Alice was still lost in her memories. She'd not stopped staring at Hatter, whose eyes were bright, the grin still seeming to grow.

"_Who are you?" asked a small face standing in the doorway of her 'room'. More of a cell, really. _

"_The last person to ask me that was a caterpillar." Alice responded. She was quaking, but too shocked to stop herself from speaking of Wonderland, as she'd promised. _

_The child only shrugged, unsurprised. "You must be new here. You have proper clothes." Alice looked down at her pale blue dress, then over at the ragged child's unkempt hair and burlap tunic. _

"_Why are you here?" Alice asked. She hoped for a moment that this child, too, had been to Wonderland. _

"_I was naughty. I didn't do what I was told. Doctor Aranmula said he would help me with my 'troubles', and mummy and daddy sent me here." _

_Alice's shoulders slumped. Nothing of Wonderland. "How does the doctor 'help'?" Alice asked. She had no trust for the man, and hoped fiercely that she could avoid him as much as possible here._

_The child (she couldn't tell, even now, if it was a boy or a girl) walked slowly from the doorway, and placed a hand on Alice's. There was only pity on that face. He recited slowly,_

"_All will be well, holy and good, _

_When your ribbons are done up tight_

_And the Doctor will cure, _

_And the Priest will bless,_

_With a mirror, a string and a knife."_

Clarice must not have sensed that the anger in her husband's voice was directed at her. They could hear her shoes clicking on the floor near the bottom of the stairs. "Is that madman gone? I'll not be exposed to him any longer, you know!"

"Clarice, you will attend me _now._" Alice's father's voice was never, ever dangerous. That must be why the woman faltered at the bottom step.

"Really, Patrick, I'll not sully myself in the presence of a madman. Especially when Alice is being so..._difficult_...again."

The word seemed to snap Alice out of her reverie, and hurt was suddenly written on her face. Hatter was still grinning, but his bright eyes were full of tears, and the tears were carrying away the makeup. Under the makeup were black lines, in the path of his tears. When the tears reached his mouth and pooled, the makeup cleared away to reveal the edges of ink-black lips.

"CLARICE!!" Patrick was on fire, raging, looking down the steps, but not daring to leave his daughter's side. By the time Clarice appeared, the loathing on Patrick's face had contorted it into something unrecognizable as the face of Father.

Clarice saw this and instantly looked to Alice, blame written on her every feature. "What've you been saying, child? What've you gone and done now?" Panic was making her voice shrill.

"Kazan." Patrick's voice almost cracked when he said it. Clarice blanched, and Alice's eyes widened. Still, she only stared at Hatter.

"Of all the things to do to my child. You sent her there. After all that place took from me, you sent her there," his voice was a broken whisper.

Clarice faltered. "Now, darling, it's not what you think. I was only doing what was best for our children."

"_Our_ children? No, Clarice, you only have one daughter. I took Marissa in as my own. And I love her. But you never loved my Alice, no, not even my William. It was all I asked of you. The only thing I've really _ever_ asked of you. Be a mother to my children. You failed."

Clarice flew into a rage, insulted and exposed. "Your children were tainted by Faelyn! And you expected me to _love_ them? They were both just as mad as their mother! Doctor Aranmula fixed Faelyn, and he swore to fix her, too," she said, gesturing wildly at Alice. "Can't you see that he _did_?"

Patrick was really incapable of violence. There was nothing in his nature for it. And certainly not against a woman, and not his wife.

So his hand must have been flying of it's own accord. Because it was sailing a true course to his handsome wife's face.

Unfortunately, Hatter's fist got there first. There was a sickening crunch as the perfect nose gave way to the knuckles, and a resounding crack as the back of her husband's hand sent her head spinning. She tumbled back, back, and down, down the stairs.

Both men watched, neither moving to help her.

"What a pity," Alice said into the sudden silence. "I can still hear her wheezing."

It was as if, when Hatter moved away from her, that a spell was broken. Alice looked about, and saw something moving in her mirror. "Rabbit? Is that you?"

Both men turned at once to Alice, then to the mirror. It didn't reflect as it should...there was only a long, twisting vortex. And at the base of the vortex was a large, harried rabbit in a ratted green waistcoat. He was gesticulating wildly at Alice, and at his obscenely large golden pocket watch.

**A.N**. A few historical notes:

- In _Through the Looking Glass_, Alice claims to be 7 ½ exactly. I'm trying to keep to this time line.

- The name Kazan is after a city in Russia where the first punitive asylum was created. Also, it sounds imposing in my ears, and just creepy enough to fit.

- Aranmula kannadi is a metal mirror with a highly polished front surface. It doesn't create secondary reflections or other aberrations. Check out the wiki on it, it's pretty interesting. Doctor Aranmula's name is a false one, as is Father Marione (an abbreviation for marionette). More of these characters to come!

Also, if things are getting a little confusing, let me know. Mystery is fine, but if you're lost I'd like to make changes to the chapter to help.

Up to two reviewers! Woo! I need all the encouragement I can get. I think the next chapter may take a bit longer to get out (as in longer than 24hours. A chapter a day would be fantastic, but I'm a bit rusty...) Toodles!


	5. Chapter 5 Goodbye, Hello

**Goodbye, Hello**

Patrick Hervey had seen many things to rattle his world in his life, but nothing so much as what he saw in his daughter's bedroom today. But there was most definitely a large white rabbit on the other side of Faelyn's mirror. The mirror she'd reserved for Alice. And behind that rabbit was the most ominous twisting of light, shadow dimension that he had ever, in his forty-seven years, known.

He turned to Hatter for an explanation, only to see his tear-puffed red eyes and the flood of tears covering his face, and the black markings that made the young man look as though he'd wept ink. Patrick had not noticed that Hatter was wearing makeup _over_ the markings.

And now that young man was closing the distance between them, and bowing low. With a flourish he pulled off his queer striped hat. This released long, unkempt curtains of rust-and-garnet hair. He then flipped his head up, framing his face in the blood-red tresses, and pulled something from the hat. It was a rather large hand-mirror, and looked as though it was made from the identical stuff of Faelyn's mirror. It was highly polished metal, with no glass at all. The frame had etchings of suits of cards and fantastic creatures all about it. Turning it dumbly over in his hands, Patrick saw a large embossed heart. A sudden lump hit the back of his throat as he read the banner across it. _In loving memory of our true Queen of Hearts._

It was clear from what he'd overheard between his daughter and the madman that the mirror was referring (supposedly) to his once-wife. Alice's father did not understand what was happening here. He only understood, and quite clearly, that he'd been very, very wrong about Alice for many years. And that his this wrong had truly hurt his daughter.

His daughter! – Who was currently making her way to the mirror in the company of a madman who wept for her.

"Wait! Where are you going?" he called.

"Father, I'm going back to Wonderland. I'm long overdue. Just look at the White Rabbit. Can't you see he's telling us we're late?"

She was testing him, hoping he could see what she could, praying she wasn't mad. Patrick smiled at her. "Yes, I see him." He paused. She looked incredulous. "I see him, Alice, I do. I believe you. I-I was wrong. I'm so sorry, sweetheart!"

He was finally moving, moving towards her, trying to catch her. "But please, please don't go! I can't lose you, too..."

The years of distance between them finally showed in his eyes. He'd been so lonely. Just like her. Alice felt her insides knotting. "Father..."

"And that's why you two'll chat with _my _looking glass," Hatter interrupted. He gestured vaguely at the ornate mirror in Patrick's hands. "Kazan's keepers are very jealous of their secrets. They'll be about this place in no time, and take your mirrors away. Of course, they might not find the one hiding in your shed. Good of you to get it off the mantle while you had the chance. And quite handy. I don't think I'd have made it here without it."

He ignored his stunned audience, and continued, all the while tapping his chin. "They must know about Alice, and about the Queen...er...Faelyn. Right. Names here are so silly, mean nothing really. Anyway, there were rumors that she nicked a couple of the mirrors when she broke out of Kazan. Crafty, crafty lady. Brilliant. None of us quite believed it until she," here he waved his other hand at Alice, "showed up in...ah...Wonderland, you call it? Yes. Good name. Like it so much better than what we call it now."

He finally looked over, first to Alice, then to Patrick. They were both staring at him, jaws hanging. One could really tell the family likeness.

"Ah, yes, that'd be 'Hell.' That's the commonplace name for it now. The place where I live. Yes. Quite. Come along now, Alice. Can't _wait _to get back."

Patrick's eyes showed panic and a trace of horror, but Hatter seemed to have recovered himself. He grabbed Alice's arm with one hand and the long black evening coat that lay across her dresser-top with the other. He strode purposefully to the mirror, the White Rabbit beckoning wildly all along.

As the tip of the Mad Hatter's boot touched the surface of the mirror, a river of what looked like mercury began rushing up his leg, and soon engulfed both his body and Alice's. Alice was reaching for her father, but by the time the older man tried to touch her hand, she was encased. It was very clear that Wonderland didn't recognize him and wouldn't accept him. The hand mirror, though, was making a sweet ringing sound as he touched the full-length mirror.

All too soon Alice and Hatter were engulfed in the mirror. Patrick saw her looking back at him for an instance, her fingers splayed on the reflective surface, before her image went black, then faded to reveal only Patrick Hervey, alone on this side of the mirror.

….....................................

"Where the devil have you been? We're so _very _late!" the White Rabbit squealed the moment they emerged on the other side of the mirror.

"There was a tea party, Rabbit. You understand." Hatter responded, primly replacing his hat and grinning down on the crazed, disheveled-looking creature.

"Quite," replied the White Rabbit, as though that settled the matter. "But what've you done to Mary-Ann? She does look so _awfully_ queer!"

Alice turned away from the now-blackened oval, and lifted a brow at the deranged rabbit. She held back the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

"She's _still_ not Mary-Ann. Alice, Alice, Alice," Hatter tapped the Rabbit's nose each time he said her name, and gave a long-suffering sigh. "And I didn't do anything to her. She grew up. Either that, or she caught her head floating up and inflated her body to catch it."

Rabbit screwed an eye up at Hatter. "One can never be too sure about these things, really. It could be either." Both men nodded.

"By-the-by, what happened to your face? You're a mess!" Rabbit exclaimed.

Hatter touched his face, and examined the pale makeup diluted by tears on his fingers. This seemed to trouble him for a moment, but he hurriedly reached into a pocket and pulled out a checked handkerchief. Her rubbed it about his face until most of the pale face makeup came off. Alice looked at the new face. It was still pale, but below each eye there were two black tear-track marks. The tracks ended in a sharp point, the outer one almost to the jaw, the inner one just below the cheek bones. His lips were the same ink-black. He looked like a demonic clown, though he was not grinning now.

Alice was taken quite aback, but didn't want to seem rude. And besides, the markings looked more...natural on him. He looked himself now.

Alice finally looked below her feet and about her. The vortex was unnerving, as it had no floor to walk on, and she felt she might topple over if she kept looking at it. So she closed her eyes a moment and concentrated on her feet, noticing that they were on some kind of solid surface. She walked directly away from the mirror a bit, then walked back. She opened her eyes to find the two men gazing at her as though waiting for her assessment. "I suppose this will do for traveling."

She knelt down to one knee, to look Rabbit in the eye. He was very large for a rabbit, and almost man-like in his movements. He sat back on his haunches, but it was clear he could either walk about on them or hop if he chose. It was his face that was the most interesting. His left eye bugged much larger than his right, and peered from one of her eyes and back again with unmasked insanity. The right eye seemed still. Alice did not break the gaze until his right eye twitched.

Satisfied, she stood again. "Good to see you again, White Rabbit. Though, you look awefully queer yourself. Took me all these years, but I finally caught you." It was only then that she noticed her coat hanging out of the crook of Hatter's arm. "How'd you get my coat?" she asked. She'd really not seen him grab it. She was busy trying not to spill her emotional guts in her bedroom. A swirling vortex stealing away your balance and sense of reality has a way of snapping one out of their emotional fits and pulling them forcibly to the present.

Hatter jumped and dropped the coat as though it bit him. He looked down at it, un-trusting, as if he'd no idea where it'd come from. The coat began to sink through the surface that none of them could see. Alice snatched it up.

Looking thoughtfully at it, Alice whispered, "Hatter, you punched my stepmother." Hm...stepmother sounded so much better when referring to Clarice.

Hatter went rigid suddenly, his cheek twitching a bit. "Well, it's all in your point view..."

"Did he, now?" Asked Rabbit.

Alice looked up at Hatter, brow creased. "I'm almost certain you broke her nose."

"You know, your father helped a bit..." Hatter was scrambling now. Ah well...if there was to be a fight over this...

He took a step back, and raised his fists defensively. His face was dubious. To put it gently.

Alice saw this, and advanced one step, then another. "Yes, the two of you sent her reeling down the stairs. Left her in a heap at the bottom."

Rabbit's little jaw dropped, making his long front teeth look even more exaggerated. They still hung lower than his bottom lip.

Alice grabbed Hatter's white jacket collar and all but yanked his face down, nose to nose.

"If you're going to get touchy about this..." Hatter began, fists uselessly hanging behind Alice's head.

Alice took a long look into his black-rimmed, beautiful eyes, and tugged on his shirt again. On her tip-toes, she leaned in to touch her lips with his.

Hatter's arms tried to hold up, but gave way and fell uselessly to his sides. He tried not to fall as she lingered in the kiss. He took the opportunity to inhale deeply through his nose...

And a rush of deep, earthy scents engulfed him. Clearly, this woman spent time in the garden, walking among the pines, digging in the earth, and washing said dirt away with summer-harvested lavender made into soap. Her rich scent told him more about the way she spent her time than the mirror in her bedroom.

Alice pulled away slowly, testing, carefully. "I just wanted to thank you," She whispered, eyes molten with intimacy, cheeks burning a little self-consciously..

She turned away from Hatter, and did a curious trick of walking and floating away from the blackened mirror.

"A most _thorough_ thank-you," Rabbit commented, left eye bugging, right eye twitching.

A second later, Hatter choked out, "We can go back...I – I CAN HIT HER AGAIN!!"

-

-

Alice was trembling a bit. She'd felt numb and reckless only moments ago, and had done as she pleased with the situation. Pleasing as it had been, she now found her numbness replaced by nervous, giddy embarrassment and a heat in her face that was only partially to do with mortification at her boldness.

Hatter, face marked out in ink and in a non-reality world, seemed irresistible to Alice. So she didn't bother resisting the urge to kiss him. Now, with the two men trailing not far behind her, her only guide forward being an apex of the vortex, and unwilling to turn around with her face so flushed, she was trapped leading the expedition to Wonderland.

Her foot faltered a moment, as though she'd strayed to close to the left edge of the invisible sidewalk they were traversing. She fell forward, her leg dangling off the edge. Her heart raced, and she wondered for a moment what would happen to her if she "fell off" the walkway.

Hatter was beside her in an instant, and pulled her to her feet. "Th-Thank you," she stammered. He looked encouraged by the statement. The last thanks had been pretty fantastic! Alice reddened deeper, broke his gaze.

When it was obvious she wasn't going to look back up at him, the lank man slumped a bit, but took up walking at her side. For safety, of course.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"No clue," Hatter responded. Alice stopped. "Are we lost?"

"Most likely."

"And when did you plan to tell me this?"

"I didn't know you needed to know you'd be lost in Wonderland. From what I remember, it's standard operating procedure for you. Rabbit, are we lost?" he asked the shorter man.

"Quite."

"There you have it," he turned back to Alice.

"Buh....but what about when you came into my world? Wasn't it like this?"

"Ho-ho, no! No, no, when I made it into your world, it was a straight shot from the Duchess' mirror to your shed. Though I'll admit, the shot must have taken a year," he amended, hooking two fingers about his chin. "When I checked the hand-mirror before I entered the Aranmula kannadi, you were still in school. By the time I checked it when I got out, you were celebrating your 19th birthday."

Alice paled a bit. "The Aranmula kannadi? You mean the Duchess' mirror? Why in heavens do you call it by _his_ name?"

Hatter slapped a hand over his mouth and looked down at Rabbit. His long ears were twitching erratically in agitation, and he slunk past them. His dirty white fur seemed to shimmer and darken alternately as he hopped away.

Hatter gave her a sharp look (which lost some of it's intimidation factor – his hand was still firmly clamped over his mouth), and made to follow Rabbit.

Alice grabbed his free arm and spun him to face her. "What was that all about?" she whispered. Hatter put a long finger gently against her lips. He leaned in close, brushing his cheek against hers, "Those ears aren't just for show, so don't bother whispering. Just wait."

"Oh. Well, if that's the case, why did you bother whispering in my ear?"

The Hatter took her arm in his, as he'd done at her own front door not so long ago. Then he grinned devilishly at her, mischief etched into the markings all over his face.

-

**A.N. **Finally the first kiss! And I don't know about you guys, but I was really hankerin' for some comic relief. Really, I think every chapter before this one could be condensed into the first chapter. Hind-sight 20/20.

For those of you who love American McGee's _Alice_ as much as I do, yes: the White Rabbit is taken off the image in the game. And, really, who in the world has ever come up with an image for the Cheshire cat more perfect and delightful than they? As for the image of the Mad Hatter, that's my own working. I'll try to put the picture up somewhere... maybe DeviantArt will let me post it. I have several incarnations of the image...one in pencil/pen, one in colored pencil, and one (still in progress) in acrylic. Snapps loves Hatter. That's all.

Vinders and Mageblood, I live to make you happy. Just to know that a few people have gone past page one and will chat with me about it---it's delightful! Yes, the road's getting twistier, even as I straighten a few things out. There will be more flashbacks, but I want them to come at the right time. CaptainGonzo, welcome aboard!


	6. Chapter 6 Enter Jabberman

**Enter Jabberman**

*Breathe, Alice, Breathe!! *

Alice obeyed the warning in her head as best she could, but it was difficult. Walking at Hatter's side, arm-in-arm with him, was a little more than she'd hoped for when she was young. And a lot more than she'd bargained for now that she was older. He was just so much _younger_ than she remembered. But then, everyone who was an adult was just that when she was little. They either had white hair of old age or they were just "grown-up." Made a good deal more difference, now, though.

He smelled like spiced tea, but also like burnt coffee. His voice was liquid pleasure at times, then it would crack into a high-riotous screech. He was quick and fluid, then slow and gangly.

So many contradictions, and just so fascinating. Attraction really wasn't something Alice had had to deal with. After all, once in Wonderland is enough to make anything, and just about any_one _in the mundane world boring. To go through the looking glass, also....

*The 'real' world was my gray clay pit, and I made mud-castles from squalor. *

Alice giggled at her mental images. Hatter watched her with one eye, the other eye trying to watch Rabbit hop down an invisible road.

* And the beautiful prince of Mudland – William. *

Her chest constricted, and she choked a bit. The sting of tears to her eyes was sudden and unexpected. The waterworks hadn't really functioned for many years...

*And my king, my strength, was Father. *

A sigh escaped her, and she brushed some stray hairs from her face, sniffling a bit.

"May I have tickets?" Hatter asked suddenly.

"Do what?" Alice had been able to take her mind off the titillating closeness just long enough...

"I want tickets to the show you're watching. You laugh, you cry, you sigh, all at a swirling path of nothing. And they call me mad..."

Alice chuckled and squeezed his arm, but looked away. *No more tears, * she thought. *Not yet. * So she said nothing.

Hatter was miffed. "Come, now..."

"Is that a tree?" Rabbit interrupted.

And there, swirling with the vortex, was, indeed, a tree. Then a patch of ground. Then boulders, pieces of pathways, a random patch of gray sky with clouds in it. Then there was a nest with a pair of orange and white birds, and as the branch swung lower they could see black-and-white striped eggs inside. They faded in and out, seeming unconcerned by the vortex.

Hatter was tapping his chin. "Do you think we took a wrong turn?" he asked. Rabbit glared at him. Alice watched as a bit of a field of iridescent poppies swung particularly close, and reached out to touch it.

"W-waaaiiii..." Rabbit screamed.

The moment her fingers touched the petals, Alice felt a wrenching from her hand up her arm, then a stretching. The poppies seemed all at once an inch from her face and a mile away. She could see nothing else. She felt a hand clutching her boot, and could hear the distant sound of someone wailing at the top of his lungs.

The stretching sensation was becoming painful, from the tip of the finger brushing the poppy to the tug of the iron grip around her ankle, she felt like she'd turned to taffy.

With a snap rather like elastic, Alice felt herself slam into solid ground. A moment later Hatter collided with her hip, his hand twisting painfully away from her ankle.

And screaming his way on a collision-course with Alice's face was the White Rabbit, his ears caught firmly in Hatter's grip. Alice threw a hand in front of her face just in time. "...aaiiit-oof!"

The three groaned in unison. Alice pushed the furry belly off her face and caught her breath. She looked down at the weight against her legs, and saw a sprawl of crimson tresses on her hip. Hatter's face was planted in the jumble of blue satin skirts and white petticoat that had bunched up around her hip. She propped herself up on an elbow, still lying on her side, trying to take in her surroundings better.

The field of iridescent poppies was breathtaking. Surrounded on all sides by a looming dark forest, with only a gray and sickly green sky above, it was clearly stealing the show of the landscape. The White Rabbit was moaning a foot or two away, still gathering himself. Hatter's black-and-white striped hat lay a few yards away on its side. And Hatter...

...was still lying with his chest upon her legs, face against her hip, arms and legs splayed against the ground. Alice worried for a moment that he was seriously injured...he hadn't moved a bit!

She reached down and slid her fingers into his hair, trying to turn his head to the side and see if he was breathing. At her touch, he rolled his head to the side and grinned lazily up at her. Oh, he looked sooo happy. "You really smell like lavender all over. Did you know?"

Alice's heart skipped a few beats, and her face reddened. He was adorable like this. But her upbringing reacted faster than her hormones, and she hooked a boot around his side, hurling him off her with a thrust of her leg.

She lay glaring at him as he tumbled away. He met her gaze when he recovered, still grinning as though his hand had never left the cookie jar.

Then his eyes trailed down, and took in her rumpled skirt, hiked up to her hip, then her black and white striped stockings (that only reached up to mid-thigh), down to her high, black, laced boots. Here his eyes stopped, and he cocked his head to the side. Alice looked down to see what had caught his interest. Ah, yes...

Around her left boot were little chains of all shapes and sizes, with bits of cloth threaded through them so they wouldn't jingle as she walked. At the ends, and attached at the apexes where they dipped from one pinning to the next, were all manner of trinkets. Marbles, little tops, jacks, crude little wooden carvings of animals and chess pieces and even a tiny figurine of a top-hat.

Wrapped about her right boot were about half a dozen black silk ribbons holding in – here Hatter's eyes grew wide – knives. Short daggers. All manner of sharp things that he'd never seen before, and had no name for. "What in Hell..." he whispered.

Alice stood suddenly, and her long skirts fell to her ankles, covering the secrets laced up on her boots. "The left is for William," she said quietly. "The right is for _suitors_." She spat the word out as though it were poison.

Hatter's jaw was opening and closing, but no sounds were coming out. His hands were working across his chest, as though checking for holes. He had, after all, just been lying on those boots...

Alice stalked stiffly over to where Hatter's top-hat lay among the flowers, and picked it up. She brushed some of the flowers off, but kept one that had a particularly long stem. This she threaded into the checked hat band, then crammed the over-large thing on his head. Then she turned away, feeling edgy and exposed.

"Look! Hatter, Alice...look there!" Rabbit still lay on his back, but now he was pointing into the sky, over the edge of the trees in the forest. And there, far above the tree-line and a good ways off, was something flying in the sky. Alice could make out dark wings...

But it was no bird. The body hung lankly from the wings as they beat, and it was certainly a human shape. Though from this distance it was hard to make out anything more.. All at once it seemed to snap to attention, turn towards them, and start to swoop down.

Hatter hauled himself to his feet and scooped up Rabbit in one of his arms. His other hand he planted into Alice's back, pushing her towards the dark forest.

"What is that thing?" Alice squealed, a prickle running down her spine.

"Less talking, _more running for your life_!" Hatter responded, pushing her harder. She began to trip on the roots of the trees as they crossed the meadow and under the canopy. Still Hatter pushed her harder, Rabbit whimpering incoherently in his arm.

Finally she stumbled to the ground, and heard the beat of wings. It was still far behind, but getting closer. Hatter hauled her up, pushing her forcefully against a nearby tree. He thrust Rabbit into her arms, and she tried her best to hold onto the large creature. Hatter didn't waste a moment, but chucked his coat, and turned it in-side-out. Then he shook it out, and as the fabric moved it fluttered into a long, dark cloak. This he pulled over his tall hat, and pressed his body against Alice, sandwiching her between himself and the tree, with Rabbit curled between them. His cloak covered them all, though Alice could just peek beyond a fold in the edge of the cloth.

From this vantage, she could make out the edge of the clearing. She doubted a cloak over them would truly hide them, but she didn't have a better idea herself. She watched as the sound of beating wings got louder. But a curious thing was happening in the poppy field. Tiny puffs of smoke were beginning to come from clusters of flowers, and were quickly building into a low smog. A larger accumulation of smoke was coming from a small rise of poppies near the edge of the meadow nearest the trio.

The beating of wings got louder and louder, and then the screeching began. Alice had never heard anything like it in her life. It was the sound of many creatures, and Alice realized that the one she saw in the distance must not have been alone. She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears, but she was cradling Rabbit's overlarge body. He started to wail, so Alice shifted quickly, hiking a heel onto the trunk of the tree, and pressing the inside of her knee to the outside of Hatter's thigh for support. She shifted Rabbit onto her leg, and freed a hand to clamp over his mouth. Not that one could hear much over the sharp cries of the winged creatures.

Alice saw one swoop low. Too low. When it got too close to the rising smog, it careened off course. Alice could see it's wings, the tangled hair from its head, a long, barbed tail, and feet that ended in talons. It sailed too low and too close to the woods. With a sickening crunch, it crumpled against a tree.

The other screeches grew raucous, then the heavy beat, beat of wings began to drift away. Alice hoped they wanted nothing to do with the noxious air wafting up from the meadow. After a few minutes, it seemed she was right. Hatter relaxed his grip around Alice a bit, and pulled away from the tree slightly. It was then that Alice realized his body was still pressed against hers, with Rabbit wedged between them.

She wriggled away, and looked back where she'd been. She could only see a tree with many, many gnarls at first. Then Hatter pulled his cloak off his hat, and she saw him emerge. Alice gawked. It looked like the tree was splitting open to reveal the man, but half of the "trunk" was only his cloak. She had no idea they'd been concealed so completely.

Hatter winked at her. "Gift from the Black Widow," he said. Alice hadn't met anyone like that in Wonderland, so she only shrugged, gawking a bit as she watched the cloak fade back to black.

"You can put me down, now, I think," Rabbit whispered shakily. Alice readily complied. Her arms ached from carrying him, even for that short time. He was quite large. For a rabbit.

Alice realized it was colder in Wonderland than she remembered. She pulled on her long black coat, shivering.

Hatter was watching the smog. It was finally starting to disperse, but slowly. There would be no going into the meadow to get their bearings again, at least not for a few hours.

"What were those things?" Alice asked quietly.

"Jabbermen. The nastier spawn of the Jabberwocky. But then, you'll have no notion of him. He came after you left Hell," Hatter said matter-of-factly.

"Wonderland." Alice rcorrected "But I know the Jabberwocky. I read a poem about it before I came into Looking-glass Land. I asked Humpty-Dumpty about it."

Hatter frowned at the young girl, curious and troubled.

"But what do they want with us?" she asked.

"Not _us_, Alice. _You_, I'm sure. They must've figured out what we've been up to," Hatter responded.

"Who's we? And who's 'they'? And what've you been up to?" It finally occurred to Alice that while she used to be able to come and go from Wonderland fairly easily, it had been something of a production to get Hatter there and back again.

"There's no time!" interrupted the White Rabbit. "We're late already! And with those _things_," he said, gesturing towards the clearing, "after us, we're doomed for sure if we stay around here! We're lost, I tell you! And we can't even get to the clearing to catch our bearings!" he was fairly wailing now, hopping on his hind legs.

"You recovered quickly, there," Alice commented. But she was already looking to the clearing and the meadow, where the smog was still slowly dissipating.

"I wonder if Caterpillar had anything to do with that..." she mused aloud.

"Who?"

"Caterpillar. He smokes a good deal of hookah. And it looked like those cloud-puffs were coming up from underneath the poppies. Seems like as good a place as any for him to be carrying on these days."

Hatter and Rabbit only looked puzzled at her.

"I shall have to get small again, so I can talk with him. But it would certainly be better if I got small closer to the clearing, so I wouldn't have to travel as far once I'm tiny."

"Alice, as a professional madman, I have to say that you don't sound right in the head," Hatter offered helpfully.

"You've really never met Caterpillar? He's ever so clever. I bet he would know where we are. And if not, maybe he has some friends in that meadow who could tell us." Alice was already walking that direction, taking a small, black lace kerchief from her pocket to cover her nose and mouth in case she got too close to the smog. She watched the ground as she walked, as though searching for something.

"Are you worried you might step on your caterpillar friend? Because if he was here, we probably smushed him when we tromped through here a bit ago..." But Hatter was also looking warily on the ground and the bottom of his shoes, as though worried he'd find the unfortunate bug's remains there. Rabbit saw this and followed suit, checking between his clawed little toes.

"No, no, not at all. Caterpillar's too clever to go and get himself stepped on. I'm looking for a mushroom to eat."

….............................

"_Alice, what've you got there?" Patrick asked his precious blond child. _

"_Proof, Father! Oh, daddy, you'll finally believe what I've been telling you! I've got these mushroom pieces from Caterpillar's mushroom! I used them to get bigger and smaller! I'll show you!" Alice made to carefully nibble a piece (she didn't want to get _too_ big or small, she might break something, or wink right out of existence!), but Patrick stopped her._

"_Ah, now, dear, that's not necessary! But wherever did you get these from?" he asked, looking at the tiny, strange-coloured morsels. "You say they came from a mushroom of sorts? I'll bet it was a toadstool. You shouldn't eat these, child," he said, sternly. It was clear he was growing concerned for where she'd been. He took them from her hands, and put them in a box on his dresser._

…_..............._

"WHOA! Hold it there! I know we've had a rough trip, but don't go getting suicidal on us! Eat a mushroom indeed!!!!" Rabbit's left eye bugged a bit more so than usual. He raced up to Alice's side and snatched her hand, trying to pull her back.

"What? What are you going on about? I only want to get small! I'm not going to let myself wink out, either. That's why you get both sides of the mushroom"

Hatter was intrigued, and quite impressed. Had _no_ clue what she was going on about. But still, it _sounded _impressive. It positively sounded like mischief!

…...............

"_Mother! Mother, I've lost Kitty and Snowdrop! And Dinah is absolutely frantic! Oh, where could they have gone!" Alice was flying about the house, looking under every nook and cranny._

"_Calm down, child, and don't make such a spectacle of yourself." Clarice was quickly tiring of Alice's fancies, especially since her latest bit of nonsense, 'Looking-glass Land.' Wonderland was just silly, but it was looking as though Alice's rantings were only gaining momentum. Marissa had been far more sensible, even at Alice's age._

_Clarice stood, and snatched the rambunctious girl as she ran past. "Now, I'm certain they're just playing about. They're still young, you know."_

"_You don't understand, Mother!" Alice was hesitant to speak of the incident, knowing that her mother didn't care for her talk – well – didn't care for her talk at all, really. It was always, "Be quiet!" or "Seen and not heard, child," or "Less is more when it comes to the nonsense of children." But this was a true disaster! She'd just have to endure Mother's wrath._

"_Oh, please don't be angry with me! But I found the box where Father hid my mushroom pieces from the Caterpillar! I meant to show them to William again, but the kittens snatched them! Now I can't find them! They'll be poisoned for sure! They'll get too big or too small! And who knows what Wonderland mushrooms do when they wither!" Alice was talking quickly, all the time trying to tug herself away from Clarice._

_Clarice hauled her free hand back, and backhanded the girl senseless before she could utter another word. Alice went sprawling across the living room floor._

"_Now, child, you listen to me." her voice was cold and even. "Mr. Hervey may put up with your nonsense, but I will not. You will stop it this instant. You will grow up, and never speak such craziness again. It is unbecoming of an 8-year-old young lady. You will _not_ shame this family any further. Do you understand?"_

_Alice only gaped. She'd never been struck so hard. She didn't dare cry, she was too shaken up. She nodded once. Clarice turned on her heel, and stalked out of the room. Alice got back on her feet. "Nasty queen," she whispered, and resumed searching for the kittens. Slowly. Quietly. She hardly even sniffled. Hardly._

…_.................._

"Don't just stand there, Hatta, tell her she'll die!" Rabbit was frantic now, yanking on Alice's arm as though he would tear it off.

"Now, now, I've never died from a mushroom. How can I go telling her she will?" Hatter responded. He was beside himself, waiting to see what would happen next.

"_That's because you've never eaten one! You, and everyone else here, KNOWS BETTER!!!_" Rabbit was losing it quickly, but kept one hand firmly tugging on Alice's wrist, the other wagging a finger at Hatter.

Alice, however, had spotted a little gray lump on the forest floor that looked promising. Peeking down, she saw that it was, indeed, a mushroom, and that its under-ruffles were bright red. While Rabbit was busy having hysterics, she bent down at the waist and pinched off a small piece from the edge. Before she could get a piece from the opposite edge, two lumps on the surface of the mushroom moved. Alice froze.

The lumps peeled back to reveal eyes peering groggily up at her, grumpy and a bit disdainful. Suddenly they swiveled over to the edge where she'd taken a piece, and then back at her, completely indignant. Alice meant to apologize, but the eyes closed, and then the two lumps were on the move. They went across the surface, over the edge, and down the stem.

Alice was intrigued. She saw them re-emerge on another mushroom in the circle that the mushroom colony had formed. The eyes were positively fuming, and the little mushroom let out a furious puff of spores. She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't suppress a giggle. If anything, this made the little eyes angrier. She looked down at the original mushroom again, and saw that the edge was already mending itself. Whispering a quick ,"Sorry!" to the eyes, she pinched off a piece from the other side of the mushroom.

…...............

_Alice was exhausted. She had been searching day and night for the kittens for three days. William was trying to help, but he couldn't move far on his crutches, and it seemed to be getting harder and harder for him. She avoided Father as much as she could. It would only be a matter of time before he discovered the kittens were gone. Somehow Alice had to find them, and fix them from whatever the mushrooms did to them, before Father found out. Clarice was all but fuming at her lately, and Alice felt it must be all her own fault. She didn't want to upset Father that badly, too. She just couldn't._

_It was very, very late. She wasn't even supposed to be up. She'd crept as quietly as she could, but fear of getting caught was making her already tired limbs even more tense. She trudged quietly back up to her room, whimpering in frustration. _

_She set her little candle down, and turned to take off her robe and slippers. But something VERY large was moving in front of her floor mirror..._

_Alice backed herself against her bed, unable to see exactly what it was. But some part of her mind was guessing..._

_Then it let out a snarling cry. It was like a meow, but so strangled and tortured it was only barely recognizable. Alice began to quake, tears already rolling down her cheek. "Kitty?"_

_The dark shape paced a few more times in front of the mirror. It seemed to be limping. Finally, it approached Alice. The young girl started to moan quietly._

_There, in front of her, was a massive, deformed black cat. It's eyes seemed to be sliding from its' face. It's front paws were far too small, the back ones massive. The cat was having to almost drag them. It mewed piteously when it finally recognized Alice. It hopped the last few feet to reach her, then buried its' head in her chest. It was quaking, terrified. Alice thought it must be in pain, too, the way it held itself. Her heart was breaking._

"_No, no Kitty. Oh, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, Kitty. Oh, Kitty...oh Kitty...oh little Kitty..." she kept repeating, over and over. She rocked, she pet it's misshapen head. Finally she looked up at her floor-length mirror. _

"_Kitty, you can't stay here. The mushroom poisoned you...it was too old, it was in the wrong world. You need to get to Wonderland or Looking-glass Land. I'm sure you'll be better off there. I think..." here she choked a bit, "I think Daddy and Mother will only believe you a stray. They'll take you away, sweetheart. I think they'll..."  
_

_She couldn't say it. She scampered over to her mirror on her knees, still cradling the big black cat-thing's head, pulling it's body along. It had been several months since she'd been on the other side of the mirror, but she believed she could get back, if she just let her mind drift that way. She daren't before, she'd gotten in so much trouble for the whole situation. And besides that, she couldn't figure out how to take William. And she'd promised._

_She heard a clomping in the hall. It was either a very sleepy Father, or William. She had to act quickly. She gently pressed her beloved kitten against the mirror. "Please, please take Kitty. Please. I'll do anything. Just take her. Take care of her. Please. She can't stay here."_

_Nothing happened. Alice grew frantic. "PLEASE! I'll – I'll wait! I'll stay away for years and years if you just take her! You can take all my trips from now until...Until I'm grown and gone from school!" she was thinking fast, of any bargain. "You can have them, just take her! And here, you can have my thimble, too!" she grabbed the thimble that the Dodo bird had given back to her. She kissed her kitten's head, pleading and pleading with the mirror. Finally two things happened at once. First, the mirror glowed green. Then, her bedroom door handle began to giggle. _

"_Oh, is it a sacrifice?" a voice came from the mirror. It was a woman's voice, and sleepy. But even then, it sounded wicked. _

"_Kitty is NOT a sacrifice!" Alice whispered angrily, still holding up her kitten, but starting to falter. A black-nailed feminine hand came from the other side of the mirror. It was bedecked with jewels. It grasped Kitty._

"_No, this beast isn't a sacrifice. But your time is. And now your time is mine," the voice responded with obvious pleasure._

"_You MUST care for her!" Alice pleaded, as the hand began to pull Kitty through the mirror. _

"_No creature in all these lands will receive finer things. And now, goodbye, child."_

_Her bedroom door turned, finally, and William and Father both collapsed into her room. William just caught the glow in the mirror. Patrick caught nothing. _

_Alice turned slowly to her family, tears staining her face all the way to her nightgown. "Oh, Father. The kittens have run away," she lied._

…_..... _

Alice stopped struggling with Rabbit for a minute, gulping. No, the mushrooms in Wonderland weren't like the spoiled ones in her own world. She _knew_ this. She shook her head, resolving to focus on what was happening before her.

Now she needed both hands to test the mushroom pieces, but Rabbit wasn't letting go, and her wrist was starting to bruise from the pressure of his fingers. *Those are some big hands for a rabbit, * she thought to herself, noticing that they were human-like.

"Rabbit, what's the matter with your hands?" she asked. Rabbit stopped his tirade long enough to look down at his own grip. He gasped, releasing her wrist. Instantly his hand began to shrink back into the proper size and shape for his rabbit body.

Alice was confused at the spectacle, but decided to take the opportunity to make a mad dash for the edge of the clearing. She was tired of carrying, arguing with, and being dragged about by the White Rabbit. She was going to have a chat with Caterpillar, and Mr. Uppity-Hoppity wasn't going to impede her any further. Handkerchief over her nostrils and mouth, she finally reached a space near the edge, but not quite into the smog yet. The smog seemed to not dare go into the forest, for which Alice was thankful. Whatever happened to that...that _Jabberman_, she didn't want to suffer it, too.

She turned, expecting to have to fend off Rabbit, but she saw him and Hatter wrestling back and forth after her, Hatter trying to hold the smaller man back, laughing gleefully at the game. Rabbit was absolutely losing his mind trying to get at her. For all the world, it looked to Alice as though they were playing leap-frog. The last vestiges of her awful memories vanished as she chuckled to herself, then pulled the kerchief from her face. She examined the two pieces, taking one in each hand. She licked the one in her left hand first. She began stretching slowly skyward. The leap-frogging men stopped, staring a-gog.

She shook her head, then licked the second piece. Slowly, slowly she shrank. She kept licking the piece in her right hand whenever her progress slowed. When she felt about the right side, she licked them both at the same time. She felt a strange lurching sensation in her belly, as though it were getting pissed at the whole process. But she stopped shrinking, and didn't grow anymore.

The Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit clung unwittingly to each other (as they had stopped mid-wrestle) and let their jaws hang a bit longer.

Hatter finally shook himself out of his stupor, "Well I'll be Damned."

-

-

**A.N.** Whew! Took me long enough! I'm cutting this chapter off here to get it out to you guys. I'm also dropping this story from 'M' rating to a 'T' rating until things get more compromising. Then I'll change it back. As it is, I feel like it's false advertising to put an 'M' on the story I've got so far. Hee hee...

Also, if you wanna check out a face-portrait of the Mad Hatter, here's a link:

http://

leiladragon . deviantart

.com/art/Mad-Hatter-113550741

Hmm... the site won't let me just put the link up. Tell you what, visit my profile page, it's up there. I've had him in my head for years now, and from time to time I put his face to paper.

**Captain Gonzo**, you went and used the classic line before I could! Shame on you! Reviewing chapter by chapter, I see you're up to Chapter 2. Anxious to see how you like the rest!

**Voldemortperfumes**, I look forward to keeping you happy with more chapters. Yes, LOTS of emotion, both my own and my characters'.

**stemilie69**, I'm flattered! Hope I keep it that way!

I'm having a lot of fun finally doing this! Why did I put this story off for so long? Mad ramblings, ah well. 'Til next chapter!


	7. Chapter 7 Cracking Façade

*****WARNING: This chapter is rated M because it has adult language and sexual themes. If this bothers you, DON'T CONTINUE!*****

**Cracking Fa****ç****ade**

Hatter tossed Rabbit out of his arms as though he weighed not more than a puff of smoke. With a small cry the graying, whimpering mass went tumbling away.

Taking three long strides, Hatter found the patch of mushrooms Alice had violated not so long before. Bending at the waist 'til almost double, he stared at this circle of fungus. Unsurprisingly, it glared back at him. He saw the scarred cap that she'd pinched, and reached towards it. Massive puffs of spores responded. Hatter cocked his head to the side, then reached into his cloak-jacket. After a short while, he pulled out a flask. It read, "Oh, dear gods in Heaven and Below, DON'T DRINK ME!"

The ring of mushrooms trembled in response. He replaced it. The mushrooms sagged in relief. He pulled out a teapot-like thing, inlaid with pearls and onyx, that simply read "Huh?" Nodding in approval, he tipped a few drops between the quavering eyes. Instantly, a cottony, sugar-perfumed puff exuded from whence the spores had previously come. The eyes crossed, then became lidded and lazy. They looked up at the pale, black-etched face before them with confusion and mild approval.

"I think they used to call that 'laudanum,'" Hatter chuckled, then took a snippet next to each of the places that Alice had plucked the largest mushroom. "I only added a bit more spice, really. Enjoy." He tipped his hat at the bewildered, sleepy thing, then marched a few steps in the direction Alice had gone.

"Wh-what are you doing? Where are you going? Those-those _things!_ You can't just _leave_ me here!"

Rabbit was shuddering from head to toe against a tree trunk he'd landed on after his tumble. Hatter glowered at him a moment, then shrugged. "Here. Hide. I'll be back with the girl soon enough." He tossed his cloak over the creature, and instantly it chameleoned itself against the surrounding foliage and the trunk, leaving only a gnarled root where the White Rabbit should have been. Never mind that the root shuddered from time to time. "And don't worry, we shan't be _late_."

At this he strode to the edge of the clearing, and sampled Wonderland mushrooms for the first time.

….........................

Alice had only just made it to the small rise where the greatest clouds of smoke had been coming from. If anyone in Wonderland could make a smog cloud big enough to intoxicate a full-grown creature into flying off-course, it was Caterpillar. She was completely sure of this.

She felt great tremors in the ground, as though elephants were tromping through the forest, and assumed it was Hatter coming her way. It made sense, being this close to the ground, that he should cause earthquakes. But she was more concerned that he would squish her, so she hurried up the rise under brambles and undergrowth, hoping he wouldn't tromp through those.

At one of the crests of the rise, she saw several shelves of fungus extending from what once must have been a great tree, but was now only a cracked, decaying stump. Poppies grew up all around it and over it, masking the wonder beneath. Bread-and-Butterflies swarmed to and fro, chased by Rocking-Horse flies. The Bread-and-Butterflies were carrying blossoms shaped like vessels that held some sort of liquid. The Rocking-Horse flies were anxiously trying to lap at them whenever the Bread-and-Butterflies landed for a breather. Snap-Dragon-flies were gathered around bubbling pools of some strange, green and amber substance. The pools had great bamboo shoots dipping into them. The other insects seemed to avoid the Snap-Dragon-flies altogether, as their holly wings were quite prickly, and their heads were, of course, raisins burning in brandy. A few enterprising Army Ants, their bodies a swath of military greens or navy blues, lit pieces of the decaying stump from the flames on the heads of these rather lethargic winged creatures, then raced back over the rise.

Alice watched all of this in fascination for a bit, then decided to follow the ants. They seemed a bit more purposeful than the rest of the creatures, who honestly seemed completely out of sorts, either drunk, drugged or otherwise incapacitated.

Alice was almost to the crest of the second rise (which was, truly, just the inner bark that had not decayed as much as the outer bark of the stump), when she saw great, glittering crystals arising from what must have been a dip just beyond where she could see. She hurried up faster, dodging the bottom arcs of Rocking-Horse flies and scraping her stockings on the strange, hard fungus outcroppings.

When she finally reached the top and gazed down, she caught her breath. There, below, was a massive creature, easily dwarfing herself and all the other insects she'd seen.

At first she would have thought it a butterfly, except that two pairs of its wings were delicate crystal, moving to and fro so slowly she never would have noticed that they were wings, had she stayed below the last rise. The last pair were like stained-glass windows, but with scenes and symbols so ominous and arcane, it made her skin crawl. Its body was made of (and she counted) 13 segments, all seeming to function in sinister harmony. The head-wards portion was at the center of the crater in the center of the rotted stump. All about the stump were toadstools of every shape, color and size.

The creature's body wound in a spiral, lower and lower, along a path that disappeared into the ground. It easily had as many legs as a centipede, maybe more. But its head....

Alice recognized Caterpillar. The foremost face on the creature was the same. Sleek and smooth, ebony but seeming carved of porcelain, it stood out from the thorax like a mask. But there were two more faces, one on each side. They, too, seemed carved of ebon porcelain. But one was grotesquely decadent, fascinating in its cruelty, deceit and keen interest in the Green-Eyed-Ladybugs fawning at its base, all lust and intoxication. A Lustful Face. The other side-face Alice could only see the farthest edge. But the eye bugged madly, and cackles of hysteria burst from it without warning. The head was perched against one of its many legs – this one with an appendage hand-shaped – the 'hand' resting in between Caterpillar's face and the Face of Insanity just to its side.

It seemed as though the thing had a headache, but it puffed, from all three mouths, from a massive hookah whose hoses wound down beside it's spiraling body into the depths of the roots of the stump. It seemed as though the entire root structure must be the bowl of the hookah, and the bubbling pools from which the Snap-Dragon flies sipped the 'water-bowls.' The Army Ants continually filled massive collections of coals which ringed the spiral of the creature. One army-ant, much bigger and made entirely of angles, spoke briskly with Cater---er, Butterfly? What was one to call _this _creature??

"Another victory for the Queen!" the Army Ant General yelled briskly. "Truly, your ways are unorthodox, Omega. But today is a day to rejoice. The Underworld is protected, the Queen escaped to the forest, and the Jabbermen thwarted! Ah, I love the smell of broken bones in the morning!" At this, the strident ant saluted at nothing in particular, pride and eagerness shining from his garnet, spiked features. He stood erect, a statue of a perfect military-ma--erm--ant. But Alice wondered, what was he going on about? What Queen?

Caterpillar (for she had his name stuck in her head as such), merely nodded, cradling his head gingerly, puffing blue smoke from his central face. "Yes, yes. Just keep the coals coming. I've not had so many different drugs in my body since..." and at this he shuddered violently, the crazed face howling "...since a long time, at any rate. Some Fixer-Upper will do the trick, just bring more coals, I tell you. MORE COALS!!!" And at this, he looked up to where the soldier Army Ants were coming over the rise with smoldering bits of the stump. Finally, he spied Alice.

"The Queen has come! Bow now! Bow before the Returned Majesty!" All three faces were crying in unison. "She has come to us! We have won her favor for rescuing her! She will bring about..."

Here he trailed off, his central face examining her more closely. Alice was frozen in fascination and surprise as all the insects, and even (seemingly) the leaves and flowers of the vine of Cat's Claw that trailed over the stump, turned to gaze upon her. Suddenly the General bowed in utter adoration, and the creatures about him quickly followed suit.

But Caterpillar was growing angry. "LEAVE US! The _Queen_ and I must have an audience alone. ALONE, I SAY!" he screamed, as some of the Green-Eyed_Ladybugs clung desparately to different appendages, rubbing themselves wantonly against him, and other insects (which Alice had not previously seen) chirruped as though begging, crawling away from many nooks and crannies of his body. Each let out a puff of smoke, as though they'd been suckling the vapors from his segments.

He sent a tremor like a massive sound-wave down his body, sending everything about him flying, even as they bowed to Alice, and pleaded in insect-voices to Caterpillar. He ignored them all, kicking with his many legs when necessary. The General merely called out to the ants, "Troops, OUT!" and the ants marched out before the first insect on the receiving end of a well-aimed kick from Caterpillar could sail past them.

Alice came up slowly, trying not to see the genuflects from the scattering creatures as she approached the massive Caterpillar. She realized, now, that she could possibly have approached him in her original size, so massive was this 'insect.' Alice was just a bit larger than the other insects, but nowhere near Caterpillar's new, gargantuan mass. She waited until the last of the insects had scampered, frightened and awed, away. Caterpillar scowled at her. "So," and he arched his head until it was millimeters from her own. "It's YOU again," he said, disgusted.

"Am I not a Queen, then?" Alice retorted. She was still shaken – and, honestly, a little heady – from the attention.

Caterpillar snorted from his central and Lustful façades. The Face of Insanity made no reaction. "No," his Lustful Face responded. "But if I can have no Queen to myself today, I suppose you'll do for now." The Lustful Face was full on her now, his gaze traveling from her boots, to her slim waist, to her flattering bodice, to her heaving, angry chest, to her livid, flushed face. He was breathing hard, and twisting towards her. The Lustful face was licking his lips with a long, sinuous tongue.

Alice recoiled, and a deep snarl grew up within her.

…...............................

"_You'll do nicely, then!" It was Mary Elise's cousin. His jaw was broad, his expression dull and bored in it's sexuality. Alice though he'd make a fantastic specimen skull for a biology class. As it was, he was her 'date' for her evening out with her 'friends.' "C'mon, now, luv! Give us something sweet..." She was certain she'd like him better dead. Especially when his hands groped at her body on the ballroom floor. Alice whirled quickly, 'accidently' slamming her knee into his groin as she spun. He crumpled. _

_It was the last time Alice went to a ball. For months, Mary Elise wouldn't speak to her. Her cousin had wound up in the hospital, and it was widely whispered that he would never have children. Not that it mattered..._

…_...................................._

_So much younger, but the same..._

"_Now, little Alice, you must do as you're told," said the 'doctor' in his long coat. He must be related to Doctor Aranmula. His face was so much the same. And his hand on her knee... "You know, you're a bit old for a new patient. But you'll do for now, until we get a few more, eh?" *I'm NINE! * she thought to herself. *I'm not old at all!! * Alice was already so lost. Oh, she just wanted Father to be there. He would take care of these 'doctors.' But she was all alone. She had to take care of them alone. _

"_Don't be so stiff, eh? Oh, yes. You'll do, you'll do very nicely..." She snatched her boot from under her cot – the only bit of her clothing they'd left with her – and whirled it around, slamming it into his head. _

_So much blood. She only meant to stop him. And indeed, his hand traveled no further up the thin, scratchy gown they'd given her in place of her proper dress. In fact, he didn't move at all. Alice liked him better this way, his unmoving body slumped over her lap, mouth agape.. She sat prim, and waited for a nurse to arrive to give her 'medicine.' It took an hour. Alice didn't budge. Yes, he was much more manageable this way. She even hummed. So much, much better._

_But when the nurse showed, she screamed. And screamed. It must have been that his jaw wasn't sitting quite right, Alice supposed. Or all the blood. Goodness, he bled far too much for a decent man. Not that it mattered..._

….............................

Alice cocked her head to the side, then began to laugh. It was a strangled kind of thing, high-pitched and unreal.

"Ah, yes...you'll do nicely..." the Lustful Face smacked more ferociously, hungering after her. The Face of Insanity began muttering. No one was listening to it.

Her body took over. She knelt down, chuckling. The Lustful Face laughed along, enjoying the way her hips curved as she bent. She pulled her skirts up over her _right_ boot, and began untying a ribbon.

But arms were folding around hers, and pinning hers to her back. By the time Alice had a throwing knife in one hand and a long dagger in the other, she found she couldn't use her arms at all. She bucked, but couldn't throw the menace. "Alice, stop!! He's not...he's not a bloody _suitor!_"

Alice heard Hatter's voice, but distantly. "You must be the favorite of the good Doctor!" Alice screamed, lurching against the iron grip. "I suppose I would do, until you could find something younger!" she spat. She was nearly frothing.

Caterpillar reared up, something in his form trembling when she mentioned 'Doctor.' Something about the seventh segment didn't seem to hold together so well... *Not that it matters... * thought Alice.

"Alice, shut it!" Hatter was holding onto the writhing Alice, but he had no hand to spare to slap over her mouth. Damn and double-damn, if only he had his jacket. He would take his pot of "Huh?" and choke the girl on it.

"NO! I won't do at all, will I! Not for you, not for Doctor Aranmula, not for his son, not for the nurses or the patients! Not for anyone in Kazan! I won't let you near me, I won't be a good girl!" Alice laughed with hysteria and menace. It was clear to Hatter that she wasn't even talking to Caterpillar anymore. She was having a fit. And Hatter knew exactly what she was talking about. Damn...

Caterpillar seemed to know what she was talking about, too. His entire form began to quake. A crack ran down one wing.

"You can't stand me talking abou that PLACE, can you! Can't hear about the ! Rabbit can't hear about Aranmula! Father can't hear about Kazan! No Kazan for school, no Kazan for Family, no Kazan for Wonderland!! Just Kazan for sick, sick Alice's head! Sick, sick, dirty, filthy, bad, bad Alice! But it's just too much for you nasty FUCKS, isn't it!!!"

Segements in the spiral form cracked every time she said Kazan. The whole thing was writhing, pulling itself apart.

"TELL ME WHY! Why is this Alice's dirty little secret? Why do I have to protect all of YOU from it? I won't! I'll break you all with my words! I'll break you 'til you're broken like me!" Alice was starting to lose steam, and her shoulders were heaving.

Hatter took the opportunity, and tossed her to the ground. He pinned her there, wrapping his long hand over her mouth. "I SAID SHUT IT! You're killing him!" But her eyes were wide and glazed. He may as well have said it to the tree-stump. She was still muttering "break you, break you..." beneath his hand.

The great crystal wings were cracking, now crumbling.

"Easy, Butterfly! Hold yourself together! Here!" At this, Hatter reached for a hookah hose that the Caterpillar had dropped. It was no use. He couldn't hold Alice and still reach it.

Caterpillar's faces were all wailing now. It was a great cacophony. The segments of his body had almost all pulled themselves apart. He only had three segments still connected to his thorax, and it wasn't enough to support the massive stained-glass wings. He toppled with a great crash, shards of glass flying in every direction.

It was all Hatter could do to cover Alice's body with his own, wrapping his arms about her head. Alice seemed to finally realize the danger, and curled into him, burying her face in his shoulder.

The great creature was still. Hatter pulled up from Alice, examining her face. She was lucid. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Back to yourself again?" he asked, brushing the wild strands of dark hair off her face. She nodded, still trembling. She clung to him, obviously bewildered and shaken from her own outburst. She looked over to where Caterpillar lay. The Face of the Insanity was planted in the ground. The central face was facing away from them. But the Lustful Face was aimed skyward, long tongue lolling out, the whole thing lurid and quite dead.

"Oh, oh, Alice. I think you went and killed him."

Alice wasn't thinking, she was just looking hatefully at the dead, awful face. She whispered, "Not that it matters..."

Hatter looked down at her in incredulity and disgust, and rolled away. He stood, and yanked his hat off his head. He looked for all the world as though he meant to beat her thoroughly with it. He spat in disgust, and Alice was a bit surprised he didn't spit on her. He marched towards Caterpillar, thought better, and marched back. On the way, he reached over his shoulder and yanked out a nasty glass shard. He waved the thing at her, emphasizing every other syllable with the bloody point.

"You stay put and shut it, or I swear I'll break every tooth in your mouth. With my boot." Alice's eyes grew wide, but she obeyed.

He tossed the shard aside, and marched back over to the broken body.

Alice watched as he climbed over the massive thing, blood still leaking from his shoulder. When he got to the other side, she could only see his head over the prone form. She had to look past the Lustful Face to watch him, but she swallowed the bile rising in her throat, and lay perfectly still.

"Ah, Jester. I thought I recognized you. Is this where you disappeared to?" Hatter leaned forward, smiling gently and touching the porcelain face.

"~~Ha-hatta? Hatta! Never thought I'd see you again..." The Caterpillar's voice was gravelly and slurred, as though broken with age. *He's alive! * Alice thought.

"You still remember the old Jester, eh? Ah, I was grand back then, wasn't I? I suppose I died..." As the broken creature said this, one more segment on his body cracked and fell to dust.

Hatter panicked. "But you're much lovelier now, aren't you? I always thought you a mess before, with your ridiculous hat! King of the insect forest now, aren't you?" Hatter wiggled his brows at Caterpillar, and the big creature chuckled.

"Ooh, ouch! Hatta, my face is getting crushed. Be a good man and roll me off it, would you?" Hatter nodded, then scowled at Alice. She got the message clear enough: Boot in the face if she breathed a word.

He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. His forearms were wiry and solid. His muscles rippled wickedly under the skin. When he heaved to push the giant thing over, the muscles bunching in his shoulders would have split the seams of his shirt, had he left his cuffs buttoned. It occurred to Alice that when this man said he would hurt someone, he wasn't blowing smoke.

The only thing left of the wings were the shattered stained-glass shards at the base, but these were thick and strong. To roll him all the way over, Hatter had to lift most of the creature. It was terrifying to watch. But inch by inch, Hatter lifted the massive thing.

Another thing occurred to Alice. Hatter could have ripped her arms off to keep her from hurting Caterpillar. But he'd been gentle enough to barely bruise her, despite the way she thrashed. Even when he tossed her to the ground, she'd felt none of the strength she now saw. He was protecting her. A lump caught in Alice's throat, and she suddenly felt ashamed.

With a lurch and a groan, the body slammed down on the other side, and Alice could hear the splintering of the Lustful Face. Caterpillar seemed not to notice. He looked curiously over at Alice, but seemed not to recognize her. The Face of Insanity, though, looked sideways to lock gazes with her. There was a crack running the length of it, and the mouth couldn't move. But the wide, staring eyes blinked slowly at her, peering into her soul through her irises. She was completely transfixed.

Hatter grabbed the hose that was still giving off little puffs of blue smoke, and dragged it to Caterpillar's mouth. He sucked on it gratefully, eyes rolling back in his head with relief. Blowing massive billows of blue rings at her, he asked, "Who...are...you?"

Alice didn't look to Hatter for approval. She gazed intently into Caterpillar's face and answered clearly and quietly, "I am Alice."

Caterpillar smiled slowly, the ebony planes less of a porcelain mask, and more of a warm, dark face.

Alice smiled back. She didn't realize she'd been crying.

Hatter began to walk towards Alice to help her up, when a voice over the rise yelled, "Halt! Stay away from the Queen! Troops, the Omega has fallen! Seize the murderer!"

It was the General. Ants began pouring over the rise from every direction. Hatter cursed, then scooped Alice up. There was nowhere to go but down. He dashed past the broken segments of Caterpillar's body, and down the spiral corridor into the heart of the decaying stump.

The General joined the tide of Army Ants, yelling, "Don't let him take the Queen! SEIZE HIM!"

…..............................................

A/N before the A/N: The following author's note was written last night when I was VERY drunk. Red wine is a fantastic muse. I didn't finish writing or editing the chapter last night, so I did it sober. You're welcome, because the 'stupids' were pretty bad.

I'm leaving the note up because my drunk self amuses me, but it's a long note, and completely unnecessary. The important thing is, I wish I'd been able to update sooner, and I'm VERY happy with the reviews you keep sending me. You're my heroes!

A/N: Okay, I'm a hookah bowl and a half into this chapter, and I've had...well...a lot of booze to help me finish it out ~~gods I hope I finish this chapter tonight, so I can review it tonight for the stupids. I make stupids all over my writing sometimes~~. No, no, I'm not tipsy. I'm DRUNK. Whee!

I listen to Gnarls Barkley when I write my chapters.

I'm not British, so writing in a voice that puts my readers – even remotely – in a mood of the original Alice novels, is somewhat difficult. I'm from Texas. We say "y'all" around here, and commonly resort to Tex-Mex come-backs when insulted (I grew up next to the border, and currently work with a kitchen full of Spanish-speakers). But I was brought up in household where "Bloody Hell!" and "Blighter" was just as common.

My mother lived quite a while in England, and it left an impression. I have an accent that is – well – embarrassing when I'm drunk. I'm a bit lost between worlds. _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ and _Alice Through the Looking Glass, and What She Found There_ were a gift to me on my 11th birthday. From my grandmother. Who collected silver spoons as she traveled about the world when she was young (as all proper little ladies do). Which I had to polish well into my teens. Is any of this world-traveling wealth still hanging about in my family tree? No. Not at all. I work in a wonderful Japanese restaurant, and it makes me happy. I design landscapes about the town, because it also makes me happy (and because I know a bit about the subject). But really, that only brings me to the Now.

I am going to Argentina soon. I don't think I believed it 'til just now. My mate has lured me into thinking I can make it abroad. I not only believe him, I would even go without him if he changed his mind at this point, so intent am I at making it down there. I think he'd be proud if he knew.

Argentina will be the background to a way of life, where I eat, sleep, drink and live an adventure that I have to write about, and write _during,_ in order to have money for food and rent. I'm not anywhere close to a professional writer, but I'll get there. Necessity is the mother not only of invention, but also of success. Knowing that I won't have food or shelter without forcing myself to get better at writing is certainly a motivator!

This Author's Note is longer, but now you have a background to the story unfolding

So: Write. Read. Fanfiction? Sure. Original fiction? Get there! Thanks, all of my readers, all my reviewers. I swear I would not have written this much without you.

Snapps


	8. Chapter 8 Why Are You Here?

**Why Are You Here?**

The corridor wound its way further and further down. The hookah hoses were pulled tight to the ceiling, and looked like massive serpents in the growing dim. The only thing lighting the path were phosphorescent bugs clinging to the hoses, puffing little bits here and there through holes they'd pierced. Their blank eyes followed Hatter as he raced farther down, cradling Alice tightly against his chest.

Finally the corridor stopped, and they were facing a massive mirror. Or, at least part of a mirror. The whole thing seemed buried. In fact, it seemed that the part that they could see was rimmed by the lids of a stylized wooden eye...

"Oh, Jester. You kept it. I never knew." Hatter whispered, awed and unable to go through the impasse. Alice wriggled from his arms, terrified of both the mirror and the oncoming army ants. "Hatter, we've got to get out of here! I don't know how many of them I can fight!" As she said this, she unwound the ribbons from her right boot. She armed her right hand with throwing knives, and her left with a long, wicked-looking hooked dagger. She stayed crouched, so that she might easily grab more weapons as she needed them.

"Seriously, Alice, where did you get all those?!" Hatter said, his eyes bugging as he watched the display.

"Later!" Alice yelled. They could hear the tiny spiked feet of the army ants swarming closer, and the heavier crunch of the General clambering among them. They peered hard into the soft gloom. The only true light came from a mass of the phosphorescent bugs that were huddled around the spot where the hoses ran into the earthen wall. Hatter kept peering over his shoulder at the mirror. Slowly, the mirror began to glow, then to shimmer.

"Avenge the Queen, troops! Don't let him get---" The General stopped as he caught sight of the 'Queen,' armed and kneeling, facing off against him. The troops stopped with their General, confused. "My Q-Queen, you live! But what--" he stared at the mirror, a growing look of horror dawning on his face.

Hatter saw recognition in the creature's eyes, and screamed, "Get out, General! You can't stay here! Run!" The large ant stumbled, tossing his head from side to side. But he couldn't stop staring at the mirror.

Alice was completely confused, but decided to just trust Hatter for now, and follow his lead. "General, I command you to leave here at once! Draw your troops back, NOW!"

The General snapped his head to her, and seemed able to breathe again. With a stern salute, he did an about-face (which was impressive, with such a long body, and so many legs), and marched away. His troops had a harder time looking away from the mirror, but they, too, turned and left, stumbling up the tunnel.

"Well, _Queen_ Alice. How does it feel to have given your first command?" Hatter whispered, looking at her askance.

Alice glared at him, but said nothing. Instead, she began winding the ribbons and knives back around her boot. Feeling his eyes on her as she did so, she whispered, "I'll tell you about the knives, if you explain what's happening to the creatures here."

"Of course," was all he replied.

"Whinton Beck is a boy who lives down past our acreage. He used to try to play with my little brother and I. But he's a blacksmith's boy, so he had to sneak through the copse of trees and whistle for us. Mother—er—Clarice never would have stood for a us playing with a boy so below our station. He's younger than Will would have been." She stopped a moment, but didn't look up. Then she continued winding the ribbons, replacing each blade carefully.

"Times are tough for blacksmiths. Too much work has gone to the steel mills. So Mr. Beck had a beautiful and varied collection just sitting in his shop, and I had money and food for them both. And I had a problem with _suitors_. Mr. Beck was sympathetic. We had an arrangement that suited us both. I'm just surprised, if you've been seeing into my room through my mirror for so long, that you never knew about it." Alice finished tying up the ribbons, and searched Hatter's face for a reaction.

"You lace your boots up on the other side of your bed," the man said, matter-of-factly. "I always wondered why it took you so long."

"You...you've been watching me dress," Alice stuttered, reaching to a wall to steady herself. Instead her hand found the mirror. She didn't notice it shimmering.

"Ab. So. Lute. Ly." Hatter intoned each syllable, satisfaction making his voice drop low. "Incidentally, I've also been watching you _un_-dress. Can't say which was better."

Alice wanted to be angry, wanted to be disgraced. But he wasn't pushing her at all. He stood a few feet away, and seemed comfortable enough just chatting. He was making no advance, and no lurid sickness strangled his voice. She could see him, in her mind's eye, watching her through the mirror. Interested. Aroused, maybe. Like seeing the neighbor girl through her window each night. And, really, there was no hurt or ill intended towards her. Compared to every single other male that'd ever been interested in her, Hatter was almost innocent. Almost. The heat rose in her face.

But what a candid confession! "You're mad, you know?"

"We're all mad, here, Alice. But then, you knew that, didn't you?"

Alice shook her head.

"No, I suppose you don't really know at all. Though I've no idea why you don't."

"I don't understand why the mirror would kill the General..." Alice started.

"The mirror wouldn't harm the General at all. But the truth would surely kill him." Hatter looked up at the shimmering surface. Alice looked too, and drew her hand back. "What's happening to it?" she asked.

"Oh, I've no idea. I'm sure we'll find out soon enough, though!" He grinned warmly at her. "Alice, every creature in 'Wonderland' knows what these things are. Because we all came through one of them to get here. We all came from Kazan. Just like you."

Alice started to quake. "From—you—from ...you all came from _there_? But, how? No! No, no, no I never went through a mirror at Kazan! I only went through the looking-glass over the mantle!" She was panicked, and wasn't even stopping for breath. "No, no, no, NO! You were all too wonderful to come from _there_! And happy! NO!" she yelled. She was pacing now.

"Alice!" Hatter cut in, "Slow down! What do you mean you've never been through a mirror at Kazan? That's why that place exists!" The madman was growing a bit upset himself. He wondered for a moment if the truth was going to kill Alice, too.

The young woman, though, stopped short. "That...that's why it exists? To take crazy people to Wonderland?"

Hatter laughed. It was a desperate, crooning sound. "When you put it that way, it sounds so sweet!" He laughed some more, tears forming and falling, but right along the path of the black markings on his face, so that Alice didn't see them at first. When she noticed, she put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't understand. Why do they send you here?"

Hatter sniffed a little, then straightened. He towered over her by at least a foot. "You know, you're quite short."

"Hatter!"

"I don't know, Alice. But we're experiments. Unsanctioned, illegal, inhumane, and (apparently) profitable experiments. Every one of us was strapped down in front of a mirror, an Aranmula Kannadi, and plunged into darkness. Then, somehow, our spirits were forced through. And we never saw our home again."

He looked past her, face falling, at the glimmering mirror. "We show up, in a world of madness, still fettered as we were in the Kannadi room, and that's it for us. Until our body dies. Then, it's just a matter of time before our spirit, here in _'Wonderland,'_" and he spat the word at her, "gets broken by some twit who can't keep her mouth shut."

His sudden anger frightened Alice. "Hatter! I didn't know! I would never try to murder anyone's s-soul...there were _no mirrors_ in Kazan! Hatter!" She just kept clutching his arms, trying to explain, but her self-control was slipping.

He only glared at her. He didn't believe her, and his anger was making him...well...sane. "Oh, but Alice you just told Jester, your 'Caterpillar,' a different story. 'I'll break you all with my words! I'll break you 'til you're broken like me!'" he sang loudly, snatching her hands and whirling her away from him. "Is that what you'll do, now that I've brought you here? Kill what's left of all of us?"

Alice started to cry as she regained her feet, but tears hadn't stopped flowing down Hatter's face. His shirt was beginning to sop with them. "NO! I came here to...to..." She couldn't say, 'run away.' It sounded awful and cowardly, even to her. She looked at the ground. "I came here because you brought me back. To keep my promise to William. I thought this was where I was supposed to be."

Her stuttering wasn't doing much to placate Hatter, and she could sense it. "I thought you'd never been to Kazan, Alice, and that that was why you didn't know what your mirror was. I thought you'd used the Queen's mirrors somehow, and that you could help us. But you've BEEN there. Hell, Alice, you recited the rhyme they use in the Kannadi room! YOU KNOW DAMNED WELL WHAT YOU'RE DOING!"

Alice's blanched. Even in the soft light, it was easy to see that all color was gone, and only the sallow sockets of her eyes held any contrast to the pallor of her cheek. She spoke softly, as though understanding the words for the first time.

"All will be well, holy and good,

When your ribbons are done up tight

And the Doctor will cure,

And the Priest will bless,

With a mirror, a string and a knife."

"That's what that room was. That's why they kept taking me there." Alice wasn't even speaking to Hatter. "Kannadi room. Heh. All that time, I thought the other children were saying 'candy room'." Alice laughed. "Candy room! Ha-ha-ha-haaa!" The laugh strangled itself out, and Alice looked back at Hatter, her own madness gleaming in her eyes.

"And that's why it hurt. It hurt so much. They tie you up in ribbons, in straitjackets. The mirror, to steal my soul, and make me stop talking about Wonderland. So they could keep their dirty little secrets. The doctor was supposed to 'cure' us. And the priest would bless the whole thing. The whole damned Asylum." She was smiling now, as though finally making some horrible sense of it was the most wonderful thing she could hope for.

"No." Hatter said. "The priest blessed the mirrors. It's what makes them work the way they do. They're just mirrors, otherwise. Highly polished metals, with no glass. There's no distortion, no space between the image of this world and it's reflection," he said. He was watching her again. Alice said nothing to this, she just stared back at him. He continued, "But without the Priest Marione, they're just looking-glasses." His anger was deflating, and now he just wondered. What the hell was going on with this girl?

"They couldn't push me through, Hatter. I never...I never understood it all. I thought they just wanted to hurt me. They just kept putting me in that room, over and over. No matter how much I screamed, no matter how much I vomited, no matter how I begged, they kept putting me back there." Her eyes were dead-looking again. They hardly saw Hatter at all. She walked over to him, and crouched to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking a little. Hatter, too, knelt down. He wanted to put a hand on her, wanted to apologize for presuming so much. But he was afraid to touch her.

"My soul hurt, Hatter. My chest...my chest was going to explode. My mind was being split apart, but they wouldn't stop. Is that what it's like, when they push you through the mirror?"

"I don't know. Everyone I've met that first comes through says that it doesn't hurt at first. The Priest just holds them up against the Kannadi, bound up tight, and starts to recite the poem. They say he made it up to calm us down," Hatter said, darkly. His grin returned, but the tears hadn't gone. Alice stared at his tears, transfixed.

"I don't understand the rest of the rhyme. What's the string? And what's the...knife?"

Hatter finally reached to Alice, hesitantly. He touched her face, then breathed easier. Her eyes grew wide, but she didn't flinch. She just kept watching his tears fall. "They say that they can feel a pulling when they're coming through the mirror. As though there were a string in their back. And when they start to scream from sudden pain, it's as though someone cut a string. They say that's why the Priest always carries a knife."

Alice nodded. She traced a small scar along her neck. Hatter watched.

"I've seen the Priest's knife," she said, matter-of-factly. "Dr. Aranmula held it to my throat after I murdered his son."

A/N: It's been so long since I've updated! So glad to finally get this chapter out. I'm setting straight to work on the next chapter. This one was too short, and pretty bumpy. Still, I hope this chapter answers a few questions for you!


	9. Chapter 9 Mirror to Her Soul

**Mirror to Her Soul**

Hatter had no words. It was as though they all grew wings and flew South.

"_I've seen the Priest's knife...Dr. Aranmula held it to my throat after I murdered his son."_

Hell. There wasn't anything that could be said. He hooked a finger onto her chin, and just looked at the scar, then back into her face. She seemed helpless. The self-condemnation on her face warred only with the lingering hatred for her victim. Ah! A few words seemed to have changed their mind, and flown back. "Alice, what are you?" he whispered.

"Alice." The word came from the mirror, which illuminated the corridor with a soft glow.

They both turned to it. Alice's already pale face only blanched further. "Father..."

He was framed in the mirror as though for a portrait, the window of his bedroom visible over his shoulder. Alice realized he must be looking through the hand-mirror. By the shock in his expression, she could tell he'd heard at least the last of her words to Hatter. Her shoulders fell, her head dropped to her chest, and she couldn't look at him anymore.

But Hatter was looking from father to daughter, and back again. Clearly this needed some explaining, but Hatter had a more pressing matters on his tea-plate. The past was just going to have to be the 'elephant in the room' while they dealt with the present.

Eyes gleaming with recently shed tears, wide grin crookedly splitting his face, Hatter boomed, "Fresh subject! Moving on!" He stepped to the center of the mirror, leaving Alice curled on the ground next to him. "Mr. Hervey, so glad you could contact us! I almost feared the doctor's men had come to confiscate all the mirrors. Our passage back to -er, Wonderland - wasn't exactly subtle."

Patrick startled in the wake of Hatter's outburst. He wanted to be indignant, but the black tear-lines stained into the younger man's face, and the tear-soaked shirt made him pause before he retorted. Caught between addressing the girl he thought he'd understood and the madman he was sure he didn't, Mr. Hervey chose the latter.

"They did, actually. I hid the floor mirror before they got here, and this one. But they took the one over the mantle. They had a police officer with them, and insisted that it was an "antique" taken from their premises." He scoffed, unimpressed with the story. "I played dumb, and didn't put up too much of a fuss. They made none-too-subtle threats about making a public scene about how the mirror got here, and who took it." His face got softer. One could imagine that he was thinking about his wife, Faelyn, beating the system that imprisoned her by making off with the mirrors they'd used against her. The madman and the older gentleman shared an unexpected moment of pride in Faelyn's rebellion.

Then the Hatter's face grew more serious, and he tapped his hat rhythmically. "It's a shame they made off with one of the Queen's mirrors. None of us know what she did to them to make them work differently than the other Kannadi, and I'm only hoping that the doctor and the priest don't figure it out. Though, if Alice could stumble through them unwittingly..." They both turned to the girl, who looked for all the world like a caricature of the 7-year-old child that _did_ stumble into wonderland. Her eyes were wide and frightened, her body seeming so much smaller curled around itself.

Alice met Hatter's eyes. She watched as the pride, the happiness she'd sensed in his features as they spoke of her mother, faded. She watched his beautiful, intense eyes fill with disappointment...then disgust.

He put his hand to his face, as though he'd lost all patience. "This simply won't do. I needed Alice: The Alice that would keep her promise to her little brother, and bring him to the world she'd found to have adventures with him. I needed the Alice that shook our little world, and made it richer. I needed the Alice that had been Queen here, if only for a little while. But you? You've talked of nothing but destruction, murder and vengeance. We don't need another Queen of Diamonds. I'm fetching my coat from that jittery Rabbit. Then I'm sending you home." For just a moment, a look of heartbreak played on his features. "Pity I brought you at all."

He turned, and slowly started back up the path.

Alice watched him, then turned to her father. He, too, looked upset, and at a loss for words. He couldn't help her.

Finally, Alice stood. Slowly, she dusted off her skirts, and straightened them. She looked up, into the beloved creases and warm eyes of the only person who loved her.

"I've done wrong by you, Daddy. I made myself believe that you wanted me to keep secrets. That you wanted me to lie, so I wouldn't hurt you. But that's not true. I just didn't want you to stop loving me for the things I did." She looked down, choking on her words.

"Alice..." Patrick started. But Alice didn't let him speak.

"It seemed like every accident in my life was my fault. And maybe it was. But I didn't mean to go to Wonderland." she smiled through the catching in her throat. "At least not the first time." Her smile faded, she continued, "I didn't mean to leave William alone the day he drowned. I didn't mean to go to Kazan. I-I didn't mean to kill that bastard son of Doctor Aranmula that played 'suitor' with imprisoned children. I meant to make him s-stop," She was shaking from rage and shame. But she kept going. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to speak of any of this to him again. "Some of these things I am very sorry for. I always will be. But some I am not sorry for." Her eyes held his. "And never, ever again will I apologize for the things I did as a child."

Her face set into a quiet, determined visage. "I am not the child I was. I am not the woman that my mother was. But I am not going home. I am not giving up on the place that has steered the course of my life. I will stay, whether it will have me or no. And I will help, even if I am not yet so clever as my mother. Goodbye, Father. I hope I will see you again." Alice touched the mirror.

Patrick saw Faelyn in Alice's face as he never had before. "No, child, don't go! You don't have to do this! I can't lose you, too!"

But Alice had turned, and began to walk slowly from the mirror. Every step she took left the shimmer of the mirror fading. She looked down, the cavern floor difficult to navigate with tears in her eyes. She'd not gone far at all through the growing gloom when she ran into Hatter's chest. "Oh!"

She looked up, startled. They gazed at each other a while. She realized he must have stopped to listen. Hatter watched Alice's lovely, pain-tightened face try to hold itself together. He made to say something, but couldn't put the words together. Alice beat him to it.

She looked away, afraid she might see disapproval etched in his face even through the darkness. "You brought me here to help you. To help Wonderland. I'm not what you wanted or expected, nor do I know what you intend me to do, but I'm all you've got. You presume much about me...and I...I guess I don't blame you. But whoever and whatever I am, I shall have to do. Neither of us have anyone else to rely on at the moment. You will NOT be taking me home, Hatter."

She moved around him, careful not to touch him as she moved past.

Mouth a-gawk, Hatter just stood there. All the words he meant to say to her were hanging on his ebony lips. Her footsteps dissipated down the corridor. He really hadn't understood her. He really had presumed so much. Watch a woman grow up for a decade, and you'd think you knew her. But not even her father had guessed at her secrets, and he'd been with her for twice as long. He could see the fading glimmer of the mirror, Patrick's worried face framed. He looked at the man, and, finally, he found words. Words he liked quite well. "Gods help me, I think I love her."

------

Back at the surface, they searched for Caterpillar, but couldn't find him. His broken segments still lay there, but his head and thorax were gone. Alice feared the worst, but dared hope that he had not died. Neither spoke.

Alice made her way out of the decaying stump without a backward glance. She began to carefully taste the second half of mushroom, to make herself grow again. It wasn't quite so awkward this time, and she felt she might be getting the hang of it. She was quite relieved to note that the opium-cloud had dissipated as well.

She glanced towards the stump, and saw Hatter standing full-grown. He was watching her. She was sure he'd managed to get to _exactly_ the right size with no effort. By comparison, she was probably about 2 inches too tall. So be it. She wasn't going to fiddle with it anymore (not with him watching). He was also pretty smug about being so much taller than she. She turned away to grin to herself in triumph...

...and spied the most peculiar thing.. It looked like the White Rabbit, hopping almost towards them, then away, then throwing a cloth over himself and disappearing. But the 'grass' that was hiding him would quiver and tremble, until the pale creature burst forth again, in another random direction.

Alice couldn't help it. She laughed aloud. It felt good, after so much crying. And once she started, it was difficult to stop. Especially when the White Rabbit heard her laughter, ducked for cover, then (apparently) realized who it was. The grass and heather stopped quivering, and the poor thing poked his nose and half an ear out from a nonsensical line in the heather.

The White Rabbit seemed just about ready to come out from cover, when the sound of rending and cracking split the stillness of the meadow. From the corner of her eye, Alice spied the White Rabbit scampering back under cover as she whirled around to face the rotting stump. The Mad Hatter was pulling it apart.

"Stop it! What if he's still near there!" Alice flung herself at Hatter, trying to snatch his arm while checking under her feet before she stepped. Hatter did stop, but gazed at her in confusion. "Alice, Caterpillar's long gone."

Alice wilted. "Oh." She turned away before the tears could spill out. She really had killed him with her words.

Hatter realized what she must think, and caught her arm. His words tumbled out and ran together. "No-no-no! I mean, he's constantly changing form. That's just the way he's always been." Alice looked startled, and he dropped her arm sheepishly. He crouched over the stump, trying to grin at her reassuringly. He looked more like a predator showing teeth over a kill. "I mean, he wouldn't stay in a place that had caused him duress, and certainly wouldn't stay in the form he was in. He'll be alright, Alice." He reached over to pat her shoulder awkwardly, and a little too hard.

"Oof..." Alice coughed, her shoulder falling under a particularly heavy 'pat.' He was certainly VERY strong. Alice smiled humoring-ly at Hatter, but in truth she didn't know what to make of his stranger-than-normal behavior. And she just didn't have the emotional reserves to figure it out. She stepped away but asked, "What are you doing?" She didn't look directly at him.

"Oh! Well, hang on, I'll show you," he said, bending back to the stump. Alice watched his arms tighten. The stump was decaying, yes, but some parts were more in-tact than others, and it was, of course, buried from the roots down. Yet Hatter made quick work, splitting it almost precisely in half. He kept pulling. He seemed to be using the halves of the stump to pry the earth apart. Plants around it came uprooted, wood snapped, and earth gave way. But still he pulled. Alice imagined the corridor they'd just been in, utterly destroyed. She could even see the little glow-bugs scampering about to find solid ground. She shuddered a bit at his raw strength.

When the rift was deep and wide enough, she could make out a branch lying in the soil. But it was remarkably straight, for a branch.

Then Hatter stopped. "Ah-haah!" He lifted the branch out of the earth and twirled it about him like a baton. As soil flew off, it was clear that it was a walking cane. Hatter caught it solidly, then firmly flicked the last clump of dirt off of the hand-rest.

"Ouch!" Whimpered the White Rabbit, who'd made his timid way over to the pair just in time to get a face full of soil.

"Sorry 'bout that," Hatter responded. But his gaze was locked on the cane. Alice saw the late-day gloom reflect off of something in the hand-rest, and gasped.

The top was shaped like a jester's head, with a tri-belled hat and wicked grin. But it was the eyes that startled Alice. They were mirrors.

"You don't mean...those eyes...were we just standing..." Alice couldn't complete a thought.

"...in front of one of the eyes? Yes. We were. This lovely stick belonged to good ol' Jester! I thought he would have abandoned it after...well, he's stronger than he seems." Hatter finished abruptly. Alice eyed the White Rabbit, wondering how much truth he could handle, and what would break him. Best not to ask what all that about Jester meant, so long as the creature was near-by.

Hatter stalked over to the White Rabbit, bent at the waist, and plucked his jacket from the other male's paws. "Thanks for keeping hold of this, but next time I shan't leave it with you. You must simply hold your bones together for the adventure!"

"Where did that...that Jabberman go?" Alice asked quietly, scanning the meadow for the winged creature that had chased them down into the meadow..

"Oh, I've no doubt that the sheer amount of opiates in the air either completely undid his mind, or killed him. Who knows what else Caterpillar had his insects burn to create poison?" Hatter shrugged. "The important thing, now, is to get to the Duchess. We've already lost quite a bit of time..."

The White Rabbit jumped in, as though on cue, pulling out his massive stop-watch. "Oh! Oh dear! We're quite late indeed! Whatever will we tell the Duchess! Mary-Ann!" he yelled, wheeling to Alice. "How _could_ you let us stray so far off schedule? Take us directly to the Duchess, _at once_!"

Alice sighed long-suffering. She kept forgetting that the White Rabbit often mistook her for his serving-girl. "I'm sure I couldn't get us to the Duchess if I tried. In fact, I'm certain I don't even know where _we are_."

"Lost. That's where you are." The liquid-dark voice voice seemed to spill out of the air from just over Alice's shoulder. She turned on her heel, already knowing who she'd see. "Cheshire-Cat!"

-----

Alice was already reaching to touch the striped face of her friend before it fully came into her view. There was only his immense, sharp grin, and nothing else. But she touched where his cheeks should be, just as they appeared. She held his face in her hands, beaming at him, until his entire head came into view. His eyes glowed eerily at her, and her tender fingers were far too close to his long, razor fangs.

But Alice had long ago decided that if the Cheshire-Cat wanted to eat her, he would have done so when she was young and tender. Still, his head and ears were far more ragged than she remembered. Perhaps he was more hungry now... Alice mentally shook off the thought, too happy to let it concern her at the moment.

"Cheshire, I've missed you so! I just knew you'd still be prowling about, no matter how long it took me to come back home!" She'd meant to say 'come back here,' but her joy had gotten the best of her. She didn't realize the slip, but Cheshire's eyes dilated, and Hatter snapped his head from Cheshire to Alice. She didn't seem to notice, and began to scratch along his jaw reassuringly. The impossibly large cat started purring. It wasn't so much audible as it was palpable – it seemed to shake the ground beneath them all.

"My, my, child, but you've grown! Has it been so long since the last time you were lost here? I forget that young girls are like bean-poles. Or, rather, like day old mice. First you're pink and squishy, but before one has even finished an afternoon nap you've grown all your bones and none of your flesh. All that remains is pale skin and fur. One eye closed and opened lazily, almost too slowly to be a wink. Alice arched a brow at him, play glaring. But she went from scratching to petting, and reached her hands to the top of his head, farther away from his teeth. Cheshire chuckled deeply, and Alice grinned sheepishly.

Then the large head turned a bit to gaze at Hatter, and there was tension instantly in the air. Alice didn't know what it was, or why, but she withdrew her hands from the large cat, and looked back and forth between them. The moment passed, and Cheshire looked down to the White Rabbit. "Ah, there you are! My, but you're looking scrumptious today!"

Poor White Rabbit had had too many close calls and life-threatening situations today. A massive cat, with its face so near his own, and with so many, many huge teeth, was the last straw. He fainted dead-away.

"Cheshire-Cat! You mustn't tease him so! You've no idea what he's been through today..." Alice remonstrated.

But the offending feline didn't stop grinning, and had an expression that said he might indeed know what had transpired that day.

Alice quickly knelt next to the White Rabbit, patting his cheeks and trying to rouse him. Hatter reached down to his jacket, and pulled a teapot (somehow completely full) from one of the pockets. This he proceeded to pour on the poor creature's face. Alice jerked back, a little shocked. But the White Rabbit stirred, sputtering a little. While Alice looked after him, Hatter turned his jacket right-side-out and slid it back over his shoulders. "Coming?" he asked.

Alice looked up and saw that the Cheshire-Cat had vanished. Hatter was heading out of the meadow and into a nearby copse. Just beyond him, Alice could make out Cheshire's hovering head, hanging above a rough trail through the woods.

"Honestly, those two!" she hissed, a little indignantly. She righted the White Rabbit as best she could. Truth be told, he looked far better than he had the rest of the day, despite the tea-stains on his face. "What in Heavens does Hatta put in his tea!?" the White Rabbit complained, sneezing the offending stuff out his nose.

Just as they caught up with the other two, Cheshire said, "Don't dawdle. The Duchess has been expecting you. And I'm almost certain you're being watch--" he stopped mid-sentence, looking out into the dense woods off the path. "Stay here," he growled.

And with that the Cheshire-Cat became a flickering ghost streaking through trees, odd parts of his body vanishing and coming back into view. He was nearly impossible to follow. Just when Alice was sure she'd lost sight of him, they heard panicked hissing and spitting. At first, Alice worried that it was Cheshire, but a moment later they heard growls and hisses that sounded like oily thunder, and Alice knew that the latter was her friend. A chill went down her spine. Alice had never heard the Cheshire-Cat fighting—it was a horrendous sound.

The fight ended as abruptly as it started. And though they could all hear scampering in the distance, they could no longer see even the faintest outlines. Then there was silence. Alice, straining her eyes and itching to snatch a blade from her boot, caught only a vague misshapen shadow streaking off in the far distance. But it was just a flicker, then it was gone. They waited in tense silence, the seconds stretching to minutes. They hardly dared breathe.

"If you're not too busy, perhaps we should move along..."

They all whirled at the sound of the Cat's voice, but Hatter was, by far, the fastest. He had turned, thrust Alice behind him, and held his cane defensively in front of the White Rabbit. The Cheshire-Cat and the Hatter were nose to nose, and the tension this time was palpable.

Hatter turned back to the path. It was as though the moment never happened. "By all means, Cat, lead on." He flicked the cane onto his shoulder, gesturing with his other hand. The Cheshire-Cat slinked his massive body (that never came into full sight...just a paw here, his tail there, now a shoulder) past the Mad Hatter with surprising grace. Alice was sure, if she ever saw a panther or a tiger, that it would walk just so.

She looked once more between the Hatter and the Cat, then hurried to catch up with Cheshire.

"What was that thing, Cheshire?" she asked.

"I don't actually know," he responded, flicking his ears in agitation. "But I've encountered it before. I'm sure it's a spy. It's a dark, cruelly wrought wretch of a creature. It doesn't speak, that I can tell. It's not strong, but it is amazingly quick."

Alice tried to imagine something faster than Cheshire's lightning-fast form racing through the woods, and the thought frightened her. She was glad to hear that it wasn't strong, but compared to Cheshire, she imagined that not many things in Wonderland _were_ strong. Except Hatter.

She sneaked a look back at him, and could barely make out his features in the dark woods, with such a gloomy sky overhead. But his eyes were lidded, his pale face standing out against the black lines around his eyes, dripping down his cheek, and accenting his lips. His mouth was almost grinning, but this time it looked more like a snarl. He had each hand hooked around the cane, which rested across his shoulders. The White Rabbit sometimes hopped, sometimes walked beside him.

When Hatter caught her eye, he winked at her. Alice whirled back around. She couldn't tell if he was teasing or being kind, but it made her belly tighten. She decided to keep questioning the large, dangerous cat. Between the two, he seemed the safer choice.

"You say you don't know who that...creature...might be spying for. Other than the Queen of Hearts, who would want spies?"

The big cat chuckled. It was a low, slow thing, and strange...he still sounded like a deep-throated cat, and Alice had never heard a cat laugh. It seemed that when he raced through the forest, he used up all his speed, and all else was done slowly and luxuriously. The laugh shook his shoulders (when they appeared), and Alice realized that his shoulders were higher than her waist. "Well, I wouldn't mind having a few spies to nose about in the Queen of Hearts' business. The Duchess used to do well, but she's fallen out of favor, rather publicly, with the Queen and her Court. Primarily because of him." he crooned, nodding his head towards the two males walking several steps behind Alice. She wanted to believe he might be talking about the White Rabbit, but the tone of the cat's voice made it clear he was talking about the madman. Alice wondered at this, but did not want to ask. It already seemed as though the two of them were going to fight outright, and she wanted to avoid watching two such powerful beings clash.

"But, truly, there are many denizens of this place that have their own plots, and would readily use a spy. The Queen of Hearts, to be sure, and her pet Queen of Diamonds have a whole pack of them," he said, growling just a bit. His ears flicked back, and Alice did not like what he seemed to be implying. "Then there's the Red Queen, who went missing after she fed the White Queen a poison." Alice choked a little at this, but didn't interrupt.

"Then there's the Black Widow, whom I've heard of, but not seen. Few people have." He stopped here, seemingly thinking this through. Alice thought about Hatter's coat. _A gift from the Black Widow, _he'd said_._ Alice said nothing.

"And all those parties don't even take into account all the smaller alliances and enemies, what with the Suit of Clubs and Suit of Spades in civil strife over the rule of the Queen of Hearts. It also doesn't take into account the invading...things. Like the Jabbermen."

Alice snapped to attention at this, peering hard at the feline. "What about the Jabbermen? And what do you mean, they're invading?"

Cheshire looked at her askance, and was silent once again, padding noiselessly down the trail. When he spoke it was a quiet, silky, low rumble that even Rabbit with his comical ears would never hear. Alice was amazed that she could hear so well, but it seemed that the sound was directed exactly to her ears. The sensation was unsettling.

"They started pouring in after your time here. What they're after, I can't say. It's apparent that they're interested in the denziens of this place, but once a creature is caught they're not seen again. The part that baffles me, (and not much baffles me, I assure you) is that they used to come and go freely. But shortly after the Duchess sent Hatter and the White Rabbit to fetch you, they seem to be trapped here.. And they're not just snatching up random victims anymore. They're searching for something, and they're restless,"

Alice's mind was turning, and it was taking her to conclusions she'd rather not consider. But the sequence of events, the timing, the Black Widow... it was too much to put together. And she was quickly angering at the thought of her beloved, secret world subject to a tyrannical queen and kidnapping monsters. She was starting to tremble. But she needed to drink in all of this information, she knew, and so she set her thoughts aside. She concentrated on watching her boots tread the ever-darkening path, and listened to the Cheshire's slow, melodic cadence.

"I've been tracking the Jabbermen to the mirrors that they use to come and go, than now no longer work for them. Crude things, these kannadi, nothing like the brilliant works in the Duchess' home. They were set up, I imagine, for quick transport. They're all over, from the land of the chess board to the sea, to the Queen's court, and beyond. And, Alice, I think you should know, I don't believe that those winged beast-men are patients, as the rest of us once were."

Alice watched him carefully, confused. The Cheshire-Cat was no longer in human form. Hatter had warned her that when the body of a creature in Wonderland died, their soul alone remained, here in Wonderland, and often in a non-human state. The soul was too fragile for the reality of their human death, and so became an animal, or something else, to protect the soul. But here was Cheshire, talking freely not only of humanity, but of Kazan. But she waited a little longer, and listened. She never imagined Wonderland to be even more confusing than the world she wandered as a child.

"I am quite certain, in fact, that the Jabbermen are the orderlies from the asylum. And that they had help getting here. And all of this, in some way, has to do with you." At this, he fixed his eye on her, piercing with its yellow glow. He never slowed his pace, but Alice felt as though the moment were caught, and hung in stillness between the two of them.

"And this means that I can help?" she finally responded. She felt unexpectedly eager, as though she had so much to correct, both in her life beyond wonderland and the scant hours that she'd passed, making a mess of things on this side of the mirror. She never heard a hint of accusation in his voice, and so it never occurred to her that he thought her involved in some malevolent way. She only considered that he must need her to help.

Cheshire's grin widened, and he chuckled.

"So like Faelyn. No wonder Hatter went back to the World to find you," Cheshire whispered, back in his near-inaudible fashion. He flashed a look back at the madman in question, and Alice turned, too. Hatter was watching them carefully now. Alice realized that all he could have heard was her offer for help, and the Cheshire-Cat's chuckle. She nodded at the outline of his lank form in the darkness, blushing a little. Then she whipped forward again, a little too quickly.

She didn't know why they must keep this conversation secret from Hatter, but she didn't feel like arguing the point with Cheshire. And she still wasn't up to facing Hatter much, anyway. Oh, how he must hate her! All the things she'd done wrong, her selfishness with her own pain, when her friends in Wonderland were suffering so much! She felt ashamed, and her cheeks burned deeper. She was glad for the deep shadow of this forest, even while it unsettled her.

But she had the feeling that the Cheshire-Cat noticed all of this, and perhaps even saw the shame glowing on her cheeks. "We needn't speak anymore now. We'll speak more with the Duchess. Concentrate on the road, I'm sure it's dark for you. And, Alice..." here he lidded his gaze, measuring his words. "**Don't ever, **_**ever **_**trust the Mad Hatter**."

….................................

A/N: I thought that between writer's block and packing up my life to move to a foreign country, I'd never get the next chapter out. But the encouraging reviews and new followers to this story were too inspiring! Thanks for hanging in here! More antics to come...


	10. Chapter 10 The Roles They Played, Part 1

**The Roles They Play, Part 1**

The warning from Cheshire rang in Alice's mind, "_**Don't ever, **_**ever**_** trust the Mad Hatter**_."

Neither had spoken since. The forest grew darker still, and Alice had to lean on Cheshire's shoulders when she kept losing her footing. She was glad for the big cat's presence in the forest. If he were not here, she would have to lean on Hatter. Her heart thumped in response to the thought, but her insides shrank…he hated her so!

The sounds of the forest grew louder, reaching almost a cacophony. But they weren't the sounds of any forest she'd been near. There were sing-song whoops, giggling sighs, and calls thundering like bursts of mighty waterfalls that would suddenly stop. Alice marveled that she could feel so calm and determined, especially when the White Rabbit was whimpering and moaning so loudly behind her. It was certainly all to do with the two powerful creatures escorting her…the Mad Hatter and the Cheshire Cat. Now, if only they didn't despise each other…

The Cheshire Cat kept picking up pace, and Alice had to cling to him for dear life just to keep up. Suddenly Cheshire stopped, and crouched low. "Ride," he commanded. Alice didn't argue, but carefully felt her way onto his back.

Cheshire's back was warm, and his muscles bunched strangely. Alice had ridden horses for a short while, and there was no comparison. Cheshire was broad across the shoulders, his mid-length hair tickled her arms. Now, more than ever, Alice realized the size of the cat. She felt a little thrill, and hunched over his shoulders, keeping her head near his left ear so that she could speak to him over the raucous night noises. Cheshire stood, then whipped his head back to Alice's right boot, "What the devil have you got poking my side..?" Alice's skirt was hiked up enough from straddling the large beast's back that her boots were clearly visible. Alice imagined that with Cheshire's lamp-like eyes, he could see her sharp arsenal quite plainly. He blinked twice, then let out a rumbling laugh that momentarily quieted much of the noise around them. "Ah, but you_ are_ a delightful girl, aren't you? Just lay your coat under your leg so that I don't fall victim to your prudent packing, will you?"

Alice readily complied. The feel of him laughing beneath her was strange and a little unsettling, and his words rang out in the sudden silence. Alice felt her cheeks glow under his apparent approval. The madness of being 'delightful' because she was armed to the teeth…Alice thought she liked the Cheshire Cat better with each moment.

"Can you take the White Rabbit?" Hatter's voice came out of the darkness as almost a hiss. It was clear the madman was _not _happy. Alice imagined that it was Cheshire's approval of her weapons that made him angry, and she didn't spare a glance back at her companion. Better to heed the words of those who liked her for the way she chose to be. Or so she told herself.

"Hurry. It's close to the Mid Night," was all Cheshire said. Wordlessly, Hatter settled the squirming rabbit-man onto Cheshire's back behind Alice. Alice didn't budge. Then Hatter did a surprising thing. He came up on Alice's left, and wrapped his long fingers around the top of her boot, on her knee. The girl stared at him suspiciously. In the meager glow of Cheshire's eyes she could see crystalline glints from the Hatter's blue orbs.

"My feet can see just fine, but my eyes are blind at the moment. I wouldn't want to lose you, now." The madman's voice was lower than usual, and his grin was almost suggestive. Alice was taken aback, but couldn't respond. Suddenly, she felt the bunch of Cheshire's muscles, and had only a moment to flatten herself against him before the great cat launched himself forward.

It was a miracle that Alice could hold on, what with the White Rabbit clinging haphazardly to her so. He seemed to have a much harder time with the ride than she. But once he gained momentum, Cheshire's impossibly quick rhythm seemed easier to manage than any horse.

Hatter held her boot loosely and easily, and she realized that his feet must, indeed, be able to see. He seemed to launch himself forward without fear of mis-step, leaping great distances as the cat to his side bounded forward. *What a terrifying pair they would make! * thought Alice.

Alice dared to pull her face up enough to look about. At first, it was only darkness, and the growing nocturnal sounds of the forest. The glow from Cheshire's eyes was too faint to see anything.

But then the forest seemed to be lit by streaks of lightning. The greenish-silver tint seemed to be drawing nearer. As Alice's eyes adjusted to the sheer speed, it seemed less like lightning, and more like creatures. There were two on Alice's right. She whipped her head to the other side. One on her left. Cheshire seemed to move even faster. Alice could not imagine how. Hatter was struggling to keep up, but didn't let go of her leg. Alice reached down and clasped a hand over his. Just in case.

One of the two creatures on Alice's right got too close. It grasped Cheshire behind the ear, and seemed to just peer at Alice. The opal-white of its scaly body shone brightly in the midnight blackness. It had a head and arms of a human, but its torso and body slid down into the form of a magnificent snake. Alice felt a sickening dread build inside her. It just peered at her a moment longer with white-on-white, slimy eyes. Then a bulge in it's forehead opened to reveal a third, black eye. The thing screamed as though it had just seen her…it's call was the thundering waterfall she'd heard before. Now Alice realized…it was the hiss of this gargantuan snake-man. It reeled it's head back as though it would strike, opening it's jaws impossibly wide, and revealing long, dripping fangs un-sheathed from pockets in it's lower jaw. Alice did not think, she did not hesitate. She pulled her long-dagger from her right boot, and jammed it into the creature's face to the hilt. It knocked the creature's head far enough back for the Cheshire Cat to whip his head around, and snatch the offending head away. He hurled it away with a sickening _thwack_. Alice was sure the body and the head couldn't possibly be attached anymore.

She heard the crashing waterfall to her left, and turned to see the Mad Hatter wrenching another creature away with one arm. He was still clenching Alice's booted leg, and, much to her surprise, Alice still clung to his hand. The Cheshire cat never slowed his furious pace. Alice was glad for it. She could hear more crashing waterfalls behind.

*One more, * she thought, turning back to her right, just in time to see the last snake-creature launch itself at the White Rabbit. But something struck it mid-air, and sent it hissing away. Alice could see the warm white glow of a spiraled horn, covered in a phosphorescent slime that she imagined must be the creature's blood. She could see little of the rest of whatever had attacked snake-creature, but it made no move to stop them, or to even come closer. It just kept pace. But Alice recognized the horn, she was sure.

"Is that the Unicorn?" she cried, relief and adrenaline making her voice louder than she wanted. A very horse-like snort was the only response.

The Cheshire Cat instantly slowed. Though he was no longer running, he loped along quickly enough. Alice could feel him panting below her. It must have been a great effort to run so quickly with she and the rabbit on him. Alice felt all the more grateful.

"Ah, thank my lucky teapots you're here!" Hatter exclaimed, more than a little winded himself. Alice didn't understand. She could still hear a cacophony of waterfalls behind her, and feared another attack. She turned to look at their pursuers, but they were too far behind to be distinguishable as anything more than an opal glow, lighting up the undersides of the forest trees and canopy as though they were a vast gathering of ghosts, haunting the forest.

"But won't they come after us?" Alice asked.

"Not while I'm here!" the Unicorn announce, proudly. Alice remembered his voice from so very long ago, when he had been fighting the Lion for the crown. She wondered that he could really frighten off those herds of nightmarish things when he'd been beaten all around the town by just one lion.

"Indeed," Hatter agreed. The unicorn's horn glowed ever more brightly, and Alice heard the tree branches creek and moan, and the leaves shake.

"Oh, my," said the White Rabbit. It was the first comprehensible sound he'd made since they'd entered the forest. Indeed, the branches were parting to reveal the sky, and it was dawn. "We can't have been traveling all night!" Alice exclaimed.

"I am the prince of the forest. All things in the forest obey me. Even the sun." the Unicorn said, tossing his mane proudly. Alice thought that the sun was not in the forest at all, but she didn't feel like arguing it. She also wanted to point out that the snake-creatures didn't obey him, either. *Ah well, * she thought. At least that explained why the lion beat him all over the town. She would bet that the Lion would never beat the Unicorn in the forest, and told him so.

"Quite right!" said the Unicorn. Alice didn't think he could be any more pleased with himself, so high did he trot. He peered over at her more closely, and his brow seemed to furrow. "Why, you're not the fabulous monster-child at all! I thought I recognized your voice from before, but…" he trailed off. All at once, his trot faltered to a plod, and he seemed crestfallen. Even the dawn seemed to lose some of it's luster.

"Why, I did what all little girls do. I grew into a woman," she explained.

"You _transformed_?!?" he exclaimed, his eyes widening impossibly.

"Well, something like that, I suppose."

"Magnificent!" the Unicorn neighed, bucking just a bit. The dawn grew impossibly bright. "You really _are _a fabulous monster!"

"Indeed!" the White Rabbit scoffed. "I would hardly call Mary-Ann _fabulous_."

Alice rolled her eyes. Suddenly she felt her left hand jerk slightly back. Hatter had elbowed the White Rabbit, but had kept hold of her hand, that had still been resting on his. Her chest started hammering. There he was, just casually holding her hand, long legs stretching spryly as he kept pace with Cheshire's lope.

"I beg to differ, Rabbit," he countered, winking at Alice.

Alice could feel a low growl rumble in the cat's ribcage below her.

"Right you are, Hatta!" the Unicorn chimed in. "Mary-Ann is the most fabulous monster I've met! And now I know her secret power of transformation!! But I can tell that the monster-child is still in there, hiding just below the surface of her cunning disguise."

"Oh, no!" Alice cried, unsettled by the double meaning in his words. "I mean, I'm not Mary-Ann! I'm Alice," she explained, shakily. Maybe she'd finally ditch the White Rabbit's pet name for her.

"So, in this form, you're Alice? Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me," the proud equine assured her.

"Who's Alice?" the White Rabbit muttered.

………………………………......

It wasn't long before they finally reached the outskirts of the forest. Here the Unicorn hung back, reluctant to leave his domain. The Cheshire Cat paused, and crouched. It was a none-too-subtle hint. Alice and the White Rabbit quickly dismounted. "I wish you luck on your fantastic journey, Monster!" the Unicorn said. Alice cringed a bit. Hatter noticed.

"And you, as well, Unicorn-Monster," she said, with a half-hearted smile.

"Just Unicorn will do," he replied, then pranced back into the forest. He sang a happy tune as he trotted out:

"I know a monster, a Child is she,

Hiding as a woman, ferocious, you see!

She slew the Naga, my enemy,

But we're fast friends, the Monster and me!"

Alice thought she might be sick. She didn't dare look at the Mad Hatter. He had held her hand until she dismounted. But didn't he also call her a murderous monster? She reminded herself that he was insane, and this must be why he doted on her so when he hated her. Or perhaps she was mad, because she believed he cared for her, when he hated her, and the Cheshire Cat said not to trust him. Oh, dear.

"The nerve!" the White Rabbit whispered. "Surely you're no monster I've ever heard of!"

"Thank you," Alice replied.

The White Rabbit looked at her quizzically, his bulging eye taking in her blanched face, but grateful expression. "Yes, well…" he trailed. "I suppose you _did_ slay the Mome-rathe."

"The Mome-rathe?" Alice asked. "Is that the Naga that the Unicorn was talking about? Those creatures back there?"

"Well, of course. What a silly question. What else would they be?"

Alice didn't comment. The White Rabbit seemed out of his element, having inadvertently said something kind to her.

From behind them there was a slurping, wrenching sound. They turned to see the Cheshire Cat pulling at something with his teeth, while holding something else under his giant paw. When it finally gave, he turned to Alice, her long dagger dangling from between his teeth. He laid the slime-covered weapon gingerly into her hands. "I believe that's yours," he said simply, licking his chops.

Alice wondered why he'd been so quiet during the journey. She looked where he'd been working it loose, and saw the head of the Mome-rathe. He'd carried it the whole way.

He turned back to the head, snatched it with his powerful jaws, and devoured it in two crunching chomps.

Alice was taken aback, not by the brutality of the Cheshire Cat, but at how much she admired the frankness of his brutality.

"YOU!"

Hatter's enraged shriek made Alice jump.

But it was a strange being she was looking at when she rounded on him. His hair was suddenly wild, blood-red tresses curling and reaching in a wind that didn't touch anything else. His eyes were so shadowed that even the iridescent blue of his irises was gone. The black tear-paths seemed to be bleeding the ink of the darkness where his eyes used to be. His grin was stretched impossibly wide, teeth bared more than just showing. The black of his lips was suddenly eerie and threatening. He trembled from striped top-hat to booted toe. If ever Alice could have seen Rage itself, here it stood.

He held Jester's cane out to his side, and advanced slowly, slowly at the Cheshire Cat. It was then that Alice noticed that the Dawn wasn't advancing, it was fading. Was it the Unicorn's departure, or was the Mad Hatter summoning darkness?

"Is that what you did to _her?!_" he finally gritted out through his teeth. It sounded like hissing, but in Hatter's peculiar, high voice. "She was our _Queen_, and you snatch her head fresh from the executioner's axe! Was the poor kitty so hungry he took the head, that last flicker of her dulcet soul, to crunch-crunch among the bushes…"

Hatter reared back when the roar of something from dark jungles and wicked places erupted around him.

It was Cheshire, and he was laughing. Really laughing. A full, booming sound, shaking the very ground. Alice thought, again, that she might be sick. It shook her whole frame.

The voice of the great cat carried as though all of Wonderland were his audience. "You think the True Queen's head _edible_? Surely Faelyn's head was too hard, even for my jaws," the Cheshire Cat grinned, showing upper and lower rows of terrible fangs for all to see clearly. Alice grew pale. Hatter's rage was slowed, but the desperate lunacy was palpable…and growing. Plants nearby were dying before her eyes, and the torrent of wind around the Hatter was whipping his coat. When it would have reached Alice, it was not wind that brushed her skin, but cold. Terrible, terrible cold.

"What a wretch you are, Hatta," Cheshire growled. "You stood there, that day, and let the filthy Queen of Diamonds behead our Lady. You _watched_, and _did nothing_. Then you would have left her head and body to be defiled? YOU know the depraved depths to which the foul Queen of Diamonds sinks when she defeats a foe. I've not forgotten what she did to YOU when you crossed her."

Cheshire crouched, his low, growling rumble the antithesis of the hissing shriek of the madman. "I would have saved our Queen's whole body, but the guards were too many. I couldn't help but notice that still_, YOU _stood there. And did _nothing_."

"I. Obeyed. My. QUEEN." Hatter spat. "My queen bids me stay, I stay." His hand whipped forward, a dark pantomime of a queen ordering her subject.

"She bids me be her eyes and her ears, and happily do I array those organs on a platter for my Lady," he said, pantomiming to his sunken black sockets, then to an invisible tray, balanced on his fingers.

"She bids me not to rip out your furry neck, nor that bulging sack of skin that cushions the fat chin of the Queen of Diamonds. She bids my wicked hands do no more violence, deal no more death for her cause. Her decree _stands," _he said simply, shoulders shrugged and head cocked.

"But you! You had a real task before you, Cheshire! 'Ensure that the Page of Hearts succeeded in his mission,' my Queen said. But the Page failed her. YOU failed her. Her death is on YOU," he began to shriek again, pointing manically, wildly at the massive cat.

But Cheshire was unimpressed. "You are less than worthless, Hatta, if you cannot do what must be done despite orders. Faelyn knew that the Page's mission was dubious. And she knew what would happen if it failed. And here you stand, refusing to engage in violence to save the daughter of the Queen? It was not for love of the queen that you stay your hand. It is because your violence does not discern friend from foe. If I had left Faelyn's daughter in your faltering hands, I have no doubt SHE would have died, just as her mother did. Lucky for the both of us, the girl can fend for herself, in spite of your failings."

Both males looked to Alice. Alice looked up at them. The story of her mother's death, unfolding so casually, finally; the hatred between these two, and their accusations: it only made the sickness in her belly feel stronger. But as the Hatter gazed down at her, the blue of his eyes seemed to glimmer and shine through the inky blackness. Cheshire flicked his tail at her with bemused approval.

"And as for my duty," continued Cheshire, "I DID see that the page was successful, though not in the way we had hoped. He was murdered, trying to return from the asylum, where the first part of his mission failed. But his soul made it back. And with it, by happy accident, he brought Faelyn's daughter. And there he lies, our faint-hearted Page. Seems he can't take so much talk of his former days."

Hatter turned and Alice spun to see the White Rabbit, indeed, sprawled on the ground. Alice, already on her knees, herself, crawled the short space to the small man. Her mind reeled at the thought. That day, so long ago, when she followed this little creature down the rabbit hole: what had he been so late for? Running madly with his pocket watch, confused and trying desperately to get back to Wonderland, to get through Wonderland to the Queen, but too confused and disoriented from his own death to remember what needed to be done, and for whom he needed to do it. Not to mention he was always - just as everyone else was here in Wonderland - stark raving mad.

From her left boot she unhooked a small fan. It had been made as a toy for her little brother, to look just like the one she fetched for this man ages and ages ago. She gently tried to give him air.

She stopped when the terrible cold returned, rolling eerily and angrily up her back.

Hatter stood over them both, that beautiful blue of his eyes gone, gone. The black ink where those icy seas of emotion used to rest swallowed the light, killed all warmth.

"This? THIS is that worthless Page who failed my Queen??"

………………………………............................

A/N: Hot-diggity-dog! Finally ready to post this chapter! I'm here in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The move was a success, but it took a few weeks of catching up on sleep, learning porteno Spanish, and getting to know my new country before I was ready to re-tackle this chapter. There were two or three ways to take this story, and I really couldn't decide. So I tried writing it each way, and two ways just petered out and left me with a bad taste in this chapter, so I went with the third. I've got the beginning of my story and most of the end, it's just filling in the between-chapters that's the adventure! Thanks again for hanging in here!

I also have an ink drawing of Hatta and Alice that I've been pecking away at, and I'll put that up on DeviantArt asap. Love you guys! You keep my dream alive and make all this madness so damned much fun!

-Snapps


	11. Chapter 11 One for One, O MonsterMine

**One for One, O Monster-Mine**

"This? THIS is that worthless Page who failed my Queen??"

Alice kept her body between the Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit. She scowled at Hatter, her own anger beginning to boil over. How dare he say such things? The White Rabbit had kept on struggling to help, even after death. And why did every damn thing that everyone was fighting about have to do somehow with a mother she didn't even know? To hell with this.

Hatter advanced slowly, his mouth twisted in cheerful malice, fingers curling at the air in front of him, as though anxious to have poor White Rabbit in his hands. *Monster, am I?* Alice thought. *Get ready Hatter, here comes your monster!*

She crouched low, steadying herself. Then she lunged. Her shoulder slammed into the Hatter's unprotected belly. After all, it wasn't Alice he'd been fixated on.

They rolled along the leaf-strewn forest floor. She'd knocked the air from Hatter's lungs, so she made quick work of planting her knee on his chest. For good measure, she pinned his arms over his head as well as she could. She wasn't as strong as he. Her rage would have to suffice.

"That's ENOUGH! Enough with your obsession with my mother! Enough bickering between you and the Cat!" At this, she glared at the Cheshire Cat over her shoulder. The big cat's brows arched, but he said nothing. Alice resumed scolding the suffocating man underneath her.

"And as far as me, or anyone else I'm fond of, being a _monster_ or_ worthless, _well, we're no more monstrous or worthless than you!"

"Alice…" Hatter whispered, the blue of his eyes crystalline and lovely. He cupped Alice's cheek. But he said no more.

Alice only scowled down at him, tightening her grip on his wrists.

Hatter's eyes fluttered. "Can't…quite...breathe…"

Her scowl deepened. But she rose, and dusted her skirts in aggravation.

Hatter gulped air and coughed on it.

"Fine pair you two make," Cheshire quipped. "Like two peas in a pod."

The great cat tenderly lifted the little White Rabbit in his great maw, and began to stalk away from them.

"But, Cheshire, wait! Where are you going! We've got to get to the Duchess, don't we?" Alice called.

Cheshire unceremoniously spat the White Rabbit onto the ground. "YOU need to get to the Duchess as quickly as possible. I need to get this one," he said, waving a paw lazily at the Rabbit, "to a safe place, then run an errand, then meet up with you later. And that's _precisely _what I'm doing."

He gingerly gathered the Rabbit back up in his maw, and began to de-materialize as he stalked away.

"My, but the White Rabbit will suffer a shock when he wakes!" Alice murmured. She smiled as the last of the Cheshire Cat and the White Rabbit disappeared. "The Mad Hatter and I. Two peas in a pod. Two monsters, off to save Wonderland." She laughed.

Alice turned back to Hatter to see him staring at her, brows furrowed. He'd sat up, legs still akimbo, hat sitting crooked, hair mussed and covered in leaves.

He held one hand before him; fingers splayed, and began ticking ideas off, raising fingers to make his point at no discernibly reasonable time in his train of thought. "My Alice tackles me in defense of the White Rabbit, whom I would surely have destroyed."

Alice startled. *_My_ Alice? When did that happen? *

Hatter continued. "I tackle my Alice in defense of Jes- erm – Caterpillar, whom she would surely have talked to death."

Alice glared. *He _destroys_ things, I _talk_ them to death. Cheeky bastard. *

"Much as I hate the Damnable Cat," Hatter gritted, staring at four fingers he'd ticked through to make his points, "I fear he's right. Two peas in a pod. Two monsters in a mess."

With a sudden lurch, Hatter regained his feet.

There was a skittering in the undergrowth. Alice didn't notice.

"How unfortunate for you, to be a monster like me," Alice retorted.

"No," says Hatter, pulling his hat from his head. "Well, perhaps unfortunate. But no more so for me than for you." He pulled a teacup from his hat, and then lifted his knee to rest his hat upon as he pulled a full kettle from his jacket. The skittering grew louder, and Alice turned to find the source.

"Monsters…" Hatter whispered, pouring himself a cup of tea.

A few branches from a nearby purplish-leaved bush groaned, then spat out the skittering creature. Alice gawked. It was a couch…no…a divan. A red velvet divan, with golden wood trimmings that, as one got closer to the legs of the thing, transformed into massive claws with black talons that it skittered about on.

"Monsters…" Hatter began to sit, teacup in one hand, kettle in the other, hat still resting on his knee.

The divan rushed to Hatter, then scooted itself under him just in time for his tush to hit the cushion. "Monsters?"

Alice watched the whole scene with interest, her anger starting to evaporate. She almost jumped as a second creature erupted out of the same undergrowth that had just spat out the divan. It was a little side table. The round top of the thing was quite normal, but the stand holding it up was a shadowy thing that she couldn't readily identify. It held the tabletop over its head with two hands, and rushed about on two legs…maybe it had a tail? But it made no sound at all as it moved, a shadow racing across the leafy ground.

It perched itself next to the divan, and Hatter automatically set his teakettle atop it. He kicked his legs up onto the divan, stretching out. "Monsters…me and my Alice. My monster and I. Hmm…"

Hatter smiled to himself. Alice was sure it was the gentlest smile she'd seen on him, and it was still broad and just a touch wicked.

She just stared at him, all comfortably mad, pouring out a second cup of tea. He held it out to Alice, and she just scowled.

Oh, how she wanted to pummel him, or shake him 'til he made sense somehow. First insisting on taking her home, then calling her 'his'. Now he reclined there, all inviting, kind and…and maddeningly sexy.

Alice reddened as she realized it. The tousled red hair, free of the hat, the red of the divan making the black and white stripes of his vest and hat, the black of his pants and the white of his jacket stand out shockingly. The slow, thoughtful blink of his intense blue eyes, and the ever-present mad, black-lipped grin.

Hatter wasn't sure what Alice was thinking. Women were, after all, stark raving mad. The whole lot of them. He was sure. But she just stood there, looking furious, her cheeks flushed, her sapphire eyes almost black, hair still mussed from tackling him (damn, but she was a tough biscuit!) and lips parted and reddening as he looked. Was she breathing harder? Was he about to get tackled again? He weighed his options…he could dodge, or he could just lie beneath her. Again. Heh…simple choice there. His grin spread.

Alice watched his grin grow, and let him hold out that cup of tea a little longer. *That's right, Alice. Just walk right into the spider's web, like a good fly. * The thought was unbidden, but it was clear that joining the Mad Hatter on a divan, alone in Wonderland, was a bad idea. The wind blew a few leaves across the short paces between them. She curled her lips lightly and whispered, "Monsters."

Hatter sucked in his breath as she approached. Had a hammer begun wailing on his chest, or was it just holdover from having had her knee lodged there not too long before? His heart felt as if it would slam its way out of his chest. He'd felt this a few times before; as he watched her through her mirror, trying to figure out the riddle that was her…missing her, wishing he could just speak to her.

She took the teacup, and then looked at the divan, clearly wondering where she should sit. Hatter did not respond, but the divan did. It obligingly widened itself enough for her to recline next to him, rather like a bed.

*Oh, this is a very, very bad idea, * Alice thought. Hatter said nothing; he just gazed at her. But something about that grin grew more pleased by the moment.

The seconds ticked. Alice licked her lips nervously. Hatter's breath hitched. She sat carefully, almost primly in front of him, never taking her eyes off him. It was an awkward way to sit, but she certainly would not _lie_ beside him. She prayed silently that she would not spill her tea, so unsteady were her hands becoming. It was she who broke the silence. "We should really be on our way, you know…"

The divan lurched in response to what it perceived to be a command aimed at it, beginning to skitter about. Alice fell against Hatter, who held her. Her tea spilled down the front of her blue satin dress. *_Lovely_, * she thought.

Hatter reached across her, nearly atop her, as he snatched his cane from the ground when the divan skittered past it. Alice was forced to lay low against him as he then used the end of the cane to catch up her forgotten long black overcoat. He tossed the overcoat against the back of the divan, then tapped twice with his cane against the side of the divan. This seemed to give the divan direction, and it altered course in response, leaving the little clearing quickly behind them.

Alice was just beginning to catch her breath, when she suddenly discovered the little shadow-table-thing on her chest. It weighed nothing. It still held the tabletop over its head, with the teakettle atop that. It seemed to be rubbing its foot furiously over the spot on her chest where the tea had spilt. As quickly as it appeared, the little shadow side table was back on the ground, following the divan by a mere inch.

Alice craned her neck to watch it, but was suddenly distracted by something else on her chest.

Hatter was tracing the spot between her breasts where the tea had fallen, and where the shadow creature had scrubbed with his foot. Alice's face turned a bright red.

She sputtered, but Hatter cut her off. "Hmmm…the tea spot's all gone. Looks like your birthday dress shan't be stained."

Alice looked down. Indeed, the stain was gone. But his fingers were still there. Her glance shot back to the Mad Hatter, who was simply watching the tips of his fingers as he traced along the space between her breasts, over the laces that held her dress closed over them. Alice was fairly certain she should make him stop this. She was equally certain she had no clue _how_ to ask him to stop. Especially when she didn't precisely _want_ him to.

"Your tea will get cold, Alice," he murmured.

"Oh!" Alice squeaked, eagerly trying to sip the little that remained of her tea. Hatter moved his cup from one hand to the other, but did not sip. "Do you make it a habit to eat and drink anything you're offered in Wonderland?" he asked.

She gulped hard. "Yes, as a matter of fact. I suppose I do."

"And you've no worry about its contents?" he pressed.

"Should I be? From a cup you hand me?" Her voice quavered. She licked her lips again.

"At the moment, no," he whispered. "But I've a mind to drug you."

Alice looked from her empty teacup to Hatters full one. "Did you drug me, Hatter?" she asked, not sure whether or not she minded if he did. What strange thoughts she had of late…

"No," he grinned, quaffing his tea in one gulp. "But if I did, I would give you something that would make you smile." He tossed his cup at a tree. The tree caught it and kept it. He traced Alice's lips with his index finger, watching her chest heave, delighting in the way her eyes dilated. Alice dropped her cup.

"And would you take the poison with me, or would I be smiling alo—" she didn't finish her sentence. Hatter had dipped his head down over hers, his mouth an inch away. *Oh, this was _such_ a bad idea! *

"For now, Alice, you will be my monster, and I will be your drug."

He brushed his lips against her mouth, slowly, carefully. Alice put a hand against his chest, as if she would stop him. But she didn't push him away. He took her hand, and gently put it over her head, curling his long fingers into hers.

Alice's face burned. Her stomach twisted delightfully. Tentatively, she returned the kiss. He was right. He was like a drug. A drug that made her chest pound and her toes curl.

He pulled away from her, just a few inches. He took a lock of her hair between his fingers, and sniffed it lightly. He stared into Alice's eyes, his own lidded and entirely dilated. Alice waited, wishing he wouldn't stop kissing her.

He spoke softly, sounding almost sane. "Finally, you're back on the right side of the mirror. Finally, you can see me, too." Alice's chest tightened. He had been alone here, watching her, and knowing she could not see him. How many years? How long had he been as lonely as she'd been on the other side?

"Finally, I can touch you." He caressed her face. "Finally, I have my Alice to myself. Am I mad, or is this real?" he asked. He pulled her close to him, searching her face with his eyes.

Alice's heart fluttered wildly as he pulled her into his embrace. "Both," she sighed. She laced her fingers into the tangled locks of his hair, pulling him to her, kissing him, feeling him, breathing deeply of his cinnamon madness.

Hatter was lost in the sensation of her, the earthy lavender smell, the cool softness of her skin that was warming as he kissed her, the matching hammering of both of their heartbeats. He'd been so lonely for so long…so many terrible things, so many nightmares. And here was his sapphire monster, ready to destroy the nightmare with her blades and heal his soul with her kiss. He felt he was drowning. She was here! And she was in his arms, and so…so…intoxicating. He deepened the kiss, wrapping both his arms around her, burying one hand in her long chestnut hair. He tangled one of his legs about hers, anything to draw her closer, closer…

…And snagged the leg of his pants on one of the knives tied around Alice's boot.

Alice pulled back at the sound of fabric rending, looking down at the hole in Hatter's pants. Suddenly aware of how precarious her situation was, she sat up fully. Her skirts were up around her thighs, her creamy legs showing above the black and white stripes of her thigh-high stockings. She moved to pull her skirts down a bit, but Hatter grabbed her hand and didn't let it go. He turned to her boots, studying first the toys on the left boot, then the blades on the right one. He touched a blade, testing it. It wasn't _too_ sharp, but sharp enough. Not so sharp as to cut an errant piece of cloth as she walked, but sharp enough to slide between a man's ribs. Hatter almost shivered.

The other boot he took more time examining, caressing the tiny bottle that read "drink me" in such tiny letters that one almost could not read them. Then he slid the tip of his pinky into the top hat that looked so like his own.

Alice watched him, trying to nudge her skirts a little lower. Hatter was having none of this. She turned her head to hide the brilliant cherry red of her cheeks, and spied something on the back of the divan.

"Hatter—Hatter look!" she cried, wriggling her hand free. Hatter looked on mournfully as she managed to scoot her skirts down one leg to the knee. Then he finally looked up.

Two creatures sat on the edge of the divan's back, peering down at the two of them. The oddest part was how much one resembled Alice, with her blue dress, chestnut hair and all, and the other resembled the Hatter, clothes, hair, hat and all. The only things that stood out uniquely about them were their solid black eyes, huge and almond-shaped, and their insect-like wings. That, and they were less than a foot tall from head to toe. Their bodies seemed to flicker, as though they were holding up and image of Alice and an image of Hatter, and those images weren't quite steady.

The one that resembled Alice stared deeply at her, and the one resembling Hatter gave him the same treatment. Alice had the oddest sensation of an itch in the back of her mind. For no reason she could decipher, her chest suddenly felt heavy.

Abruptly, they turned to each other, and held each other in a close, almost scandalous embrace.

They sighed to one another, their sounds eerily melodious, and then Hatter and Alice could just make out the words of their terrible little song:

_Hatter-creature_:

One for one, O monster-mine,

Tell me who you killed.

_Alice-creature_:

Aranmula's boy

Who made me his toy

His skull cracked—then he was still.

_Alice-creature:_

One for one, O monster-mine,

Who by your hand has died?

_Hatter-creature:_

The March Hare is dead,

For the Door Mouse he bled,

After betraying my Queen and I.

Hatter and Alice could only stare at one another, too shocked to move or speak. Neither one of them had any denial about their features. The creatures sang again.

_Hatter-creature_:

One for one, O monster-mine,

Would you weep to kill again?

_Alice-creature:_

My sharp knives would feast

On the doctor and priest;

They hunger for all such men.

_Alice-creature:_

One for one, O monster-mine,

Who is next to die?

_Hatter-creature_:

That false Queen of Hearts,

Foul, loathsome tart,

She'll bleed for my Alice and I!

From having been so flushed a few moments before, Alice and Hatter were suddenly quite pale. It was more than a little unsettling to have your darkest thoughts sang out to your new lover.

The little Hatter-creature stopped crooning, and turned to the original Hatter. "But where are you taking her?"

The Alice-creature suddenly looked at Alice, then at Hatter. "Where are you taking me, lover?"

Hatter just stared back at them. "Where are you taking my Alice?" the Hatter-creature repeated.

"Where are you taking me, monster?" the Alice-creature cried, fear and betrayal so naked in its tones. It fluttered its wings in a fit. Alice herself was not doing much better. Panic was rising. What were these frightening little things going on about, now?

Finally, the Alice-creature grew so panicked, it fluttered away. The Hatter-creature advanced on Hatter. He touched the Mad Hatter's forehead, and asked once more, "Where are you _really_ taking my Alice? What will _really _become of my Alice?"

The divan stopped suddenly. Everything was so still. The Hatter-creature fluttered off after the Alice-creature. Hatter finally met Alice's gaze again.

She'd somehow managed to curl herself against the arm of the divan, skirts safely over her knees, arms wrapped around them. "Oh, my Alice. Where am I taking you?"

"To—to the Duchess, of course," Alice offered, not really believing her own words.

"No. No, not to the Duchess."

Alice choked. "Then…where…"

"I've been a fool, Alice." Hatter laughed. "A mad, mad fool!" He sprang from the divan, reaching quickly into his jacket. He pulled out a little glass cordial. It seemed filled with some purplish-black fluid. He quickly un-stoppered it, and emptied it into his mouth.

Alice panicked. Was it some kind of poison? Just what was happening?!? She threw herself at him, with no clear idea of what she'd do.

But Hatter caught her, and held her tight against him. Then he tipped her head up, bent his head down before she had a chance to catch her feet, and kissed her deeply.

Alice never had a chance. Warm, sweet liquid rushed at her throat. She swallowed on reflex, then coughed. She reeled from him, and Hatter let her go. She didn't make it far before she stumbled and fell to the ground.

Hatter spat the rest of the blackish liquid from his mouth.

Alice tried to regain her feet, but her muscles were locking fast. "Ha—tter…wha…why…"

"Don't try to speak," he said, gathering her into his arms, and carrying her to a mossy boulder. Alice noticed with the only still part of her mind that the moss was strangely iridescent, more pink than green. The rest of her mind was utterly terrified.

He sat her up against the rock. The poison didn't numb her, it just made her incapable of moving anything but her eyes and her lips..though her jaw would not pry open, nor her tongue move. She felt the rock against her back, his arms around her, the strangely soft grass beneath her legs. Where was she? She hadn't noticed, and couldn't look around much, now.

"You can't speak, and you can't move. Not for a while. So you must listen instead," he said. Alice finally noticed what was wrong. He wasn't smiling. And he sounded so…sane. His eyes grew soft, and he caressed her face. "I am a madman and a fool, but, by all that is left of me, I love you."

The terror-filled whirlwind of Alice's mind finally paused, and she listened.

"Seeing you for so long…I knew peace in the locks of your hair, joy in the curl of your fingers, and the softest sadness from those lips that never smiled." He stopped, and ran his fingertip gently across her bottom lip. When he brought his finger back, Alice realized she must have been crying. His finger dripped with her tears. The long black lines that cut over Hatter's cheeks were also filled with small rivulets of tears.

Alice was no longer frightened. She was just waiting for him to hurt her. To betray her. "_Never trust the Mad Hatter_," the Cheshire Cat had said. Fool, fool, Alice the fool.

"The Black Widow…she's your…your enemy. Do not trust her, do not trust her agents. Any of them," he whispered, still holding her close. He laughed to himself. It was a hollow, strange sound. Alice's mind wrapped around this. Why tell her this now? Who were the Black Widow's agents?

"Your brother, William…I'm certain he's in the Court of Hearts." If Alice could have cried out, she would have. Hatter seemed to see her reaction in her eyes. "You cannot go alone. You will not survive, and you'll do no good for William. Go to the Duchess. She'll help you. She has many allies."

Alice tried to crease her brows at him, and grew frustrated when she couldn't even do that much.

Hatter stopped giving her instructions, and just sat there, caressing her face, his tears coming down faster. But he never so much as hiccoughed. It was as though his eyes were just bleeding tears. "I meant to drug you with something sweet, didn't I? Something that would make you smile. But neither I nor my little poison will make you smile. I think I've failed you. I tried reunite you and your mother, but I failed her, too, failed all of Wonderland. Because I am a fool, and I let myself be blinded. But you'll not fail. And I will do everything I can to make sure you succeed, my Alice."

He leaned in, and kissed her softly, gently, with no demand, no apology, no promise. Alice's heart twisted when she realized it. He was saying goodbye.

Hatter stood finally. He shrugged his coat off his shoulders, turned it inside out, then lay it across her. Alice knew she'd be invisible…just another part of the boulder. Still, Hatter did not grin. Alice could see him through an opening in the fabric. She wondered if he'd done that on purpose.

He strode to the divan, and set the Caterpillar's cane carefully across it. He lay Alice's black over coat on it, then spoke quietly to it. "Hide yourself well, but wait. When I'm gone, take Alice to the Duchess. Quickly." The divan rushed to some nearby scrub, and Alice could hear and see it no more. Hatter took one last, long look at where Alice lay. She could tell that he couldn't see her. Finally, the grin began to creep along his face. It looked blacker somehow, much more sinister. He took the top button off of his vest. Was it a little skull? He tossed it on the ground. The earth rumbled a bit around it, sending out strange shockwaves.

He just stood there, looking off into the distance. Minutes ticked by. Alice imagined the White Rabbit's huge waistcoat watch. She couldn't tame her mind enough just now to figure out what was happening.

Then Hatter's head snapped in another direction. Alice heard nothing. All she saw was a massive, black-furred creature slam into Hatter, knocking him to the ground.

"Brakes, Kitty," Hatter groaned from beneath the thing.

But Alice didn't hear him. She heard nothing. Her mind was reeling as recognition grew. The black fur, the kittenish ears and paws, all on an otherwise utterly misshapen form. *Kitty… * she thought. *No, no, no, no….not Kitty… *

But it was. It was Dinah's baby…her beloved little black kitten. He'd grown bigger here, but still grossly deformed. And all through his fur there glittered thousands of tiny red spots that moved. When her tears cleared enough, Alice realized what they were. Spiders. Black spiders with the red hourglasses on their abdomen.

Alice thought back to that day, years and years ago, when she bartered her future in Wonderland to a woman on the other side of the mirror, all in exchange for the protection of Kitty. She remembered the long, spindly white fingers tipped with long black nails. Alice had always secretly feared she'd given Kitty to one of the queens of the card deck. After all this time, she knew who'd had Kitty—the Black Widow.

Hatter finally regained his feet, and jauntily bowed to Kitty. Alice was a bit confused. Suddenly the spiders all over Kitty became agitated. They moved in waves across Kitty's fur, their ruby marks glittering. It would have been pretty were it not so horrific to think of all the poison they contained, writhing on her dear Kitty.

The waves of spiders crashed on one another, as Kitty sat silently on her oversized haunches. They pooled in the air, then spun into a human-ish shape. The shape they formed was certainly a woman, though Alice could still see through the spiders to the woods behind the form. She had six arms. Alice had a bad feeling about this…

The click of the spiders over one another's bodies seemed to be forming sounds. Once Alice realized this, she listened closer. "Hhhhaaatta…youuu fiiiinally sssummon me." As the body seemed to solidify, so did the sound of the spider-voice. "I had begun to wonder if you'd lost yourself."

"Oh, but I did!" Hatter quipped. "To which I owe thanks to your pets in the forest, I might add." Hatter wasn't grinning so much as showing his teeth.

"The nagaini are no enemy of yours. They should not have bothered you at all…but why were you so far? I awaited you near the Duchess's side of her bedroom mirror," the spiders whispered.

"Well, Widow, Alice navigates her own way, and Wonderland bends to her. We were lucky that the Cheshire Cat found us, I suppose."

The form of the six-armed woman snapped her neck towards Hatter, seeming to use Kitty as her legs, forcing him to walk to Hatter. "WHO?? The _Cat_? Am I to guess that this is why you _failed_ to bring me Alice?"

"Whatever do you mean, bring _you _Alice? I thought we were bringing Alice to Faelyn." Hatter's voice was soft, high and slightly mocking, as if even he did not believe what he was saying.

The Black Widow noticed. "After so many years, when we are so close to resurrecting your Queen, _now _you doubt me? _Now_ you lose your nerve, and decide not to serve your precious Queen of Hearts? What happened, Hatta? Did Alice's pretty face make you forget where your fealty lay?"

"Damn near did, as a matter of fact," Hatter shot back. "But don't worry. Cheshire Cat may have Alice, but she trusts me. I even convinced her that she should trust _you_. I told her what marvelous care you're taking of Kitty," he lied, venom dripping from his words.

"Hatta, you would do well not to mock me," the Black Widow hissed. Kitty began to growl. It was a strange, not-quite-kitten sound, and it made Alice sick to hear it. "I am the only one who can bring Faelyn back. I don't think your little Alice would thank you for estranging the one who holds the key to her mother's future."

Hatter bowed again, grin reaching back to his ears. "It can't be helped, you know. It's in my nature to be wicked." His eyes were so very cold, his grin so sinister, that Alice believed him.

The Black Widow seemed to stop and consider him a moment. "Of course. I forget, when you're away for so long. You're wicked, and you're mad. And…you're missing the coat I gave you…"

Suddenly, the mass of spiders and cat swiveled, seeming to examine the entire clearing. Alice's mind raced. No way to escape. Stuck. Frozen. Helpless.

"It turns out," drawled the Mad Hatter, "that keeping the White Rabbit alive long enough so that I might still be trusted by the Duchess takes a considerable amount of my protection. Had I known things were going to go so awry, I would have saved myself the trouble and let him die early on. Then I'd still have my jacket." He looked down at his sleeves in irritation, as though it was their fault for not being covered by the jacket.

"Enough of this; tell me, where is Alice now?" the Black Widow demanded.

Despite herself, Alice grew afraid again. Would he change his mind? Would he suddenly turn on her and give her to this woman? Alice couldn't say why, but this woman truly frightened her.

'I overheard him saying he was going on an errand. Any idea what he might have meant?" Hatter asked.

The Black Widow seemed pleased by this. "So he's not taking her directly to the Duchess? Good…this gives us time. And I think I know where he's going. And this time, you will not lose your precious Alice to the damnable Cat." Alice could swear she could see a slow smile forming on the Black Widow's spider-construct face.

Hatter returned the smile, nodding. The spiders dropped back down to Kitty's body, and Hatter and Kitty turned to walk away. Alice wanted to scream. How could he walk with her? How could he smile at her?

Hatter did not turn back, did not acknowledge Alice in any way. She knew she should be relieved, but he was just leaving her. She watched him go, without his jacket, hat cocked askew, flame-red hair flying off in strange directions from beneath it, and cascading down his back. His jaunty stride was a fitting compliment to the tortured, uneven shuffle of Kitty.

Alice wanted him to destroy the Black Widow, there on the spot. Hell, she wanted to do it herself, so that she could save Kitty.

Kitty. There was no way to get those black widow spiders off Kitty without killing…well…everyone involved. He was right to leave. Alice could feel her tears, but she wanted to do more. She wanted to wail, to throw a fit.

But she was stuck, petrified on the floor of the forest, waiting for the poison to wear off. Now she knew why he'd poisoned her. There was nothing he could have said to make her sit still and quiet through that. And if he'd tried to leave, she would have followed. Bastard.

*Well, * she finally thought, *at least this poison keeps me from throwing my fit. How ashamed would I be, later, had I risked the life of Kitty, Hatter and I just because I wanted to…"

Alice paused. *…I wanted to rip her face off. Hmmm. That's interesting. *

She began to laugh, but her lungs weren't moving. Was she suffocating? Could one suffocate in Wonderland? Her chest didn't move, her shoulders could not have shaken even had she wanted them to. Still, the absurdity of her own desire to kill, of calmly agreeing that the man you trusted was right to poison you. How was the mind supposed to wrap around such things? Alice's mind was, clearly, going to have nothing to do with it anymore. The tears streamed faster down her pale cheeks.

She realized just how recent the feel of his lips on hers was. She realized she still ached to be touched again. She'd never been held that way, never caressed so gently. When so many girls her age already had beaus or fiancés, Alice had happily shunned the opposite sex. And now, when it was so new, so exhilarating, he'd poisoned her and left. How terribly funny.

She wasn't sure when her sobs became audible, or when the incessant cackling in her head rose to a fevered pitch from her own lips. Small Alice, huddled under her lover's jacket, laughing alone in the woods of Wonderland.

It took her a moment to feel the repetitive nudging of one of the long, ebony claws of the divan. Slowly, she pried her arms from her sides, the muscles cramped as though they'd been stone only moments ago. She pulled the jacket inch by aching inch from her head to find herself in the strangest purple-pink forest she'd ever seen. The evening was coming with creeping finger-shadows of spiky trees, and a strange bioluminescence was starting to gather strength in the foliage.

Uncurling her locked legs made her cry out in pain. The poison left her muscles sore and angry. Even her toes moving in her boots shot knives of pain up her calves. With each effort, she had to stop and catch her breath, and then she'd start to laugh again. She tried to use the divan to help her gain her feet, but standing was not possible. She feebly pulled herself onto the cushions. The shadow-creature helped as best it could, placing itself where she could cling to the tabletop for support and haul herself up onto the divan. With a graceless 'oomf', she landed her hip on the cushions. Hatter's coat was still bunched in her lap, a rumpled mess. She didn't know if she wanted to curl around it or toss it to the ground. Good thing she couldn't move very well, and, thus, didn't have to decide.

The divan made to move, but her boots were dragging so much on the uneven ground that she might be pulled off. The shadow-creature kicked at her boots, but could do little else while he held the little tabletop over his head.

Finally, the divan bucked, tossing Alice fully onto it, so that her legs dangled over the far end, while her head rested against a cushion near the arm. Alice cackled at the sensation, her throat already hoarse from the relentless crying and hysterical laughter. The divan began to move, this time very, very quickly. Her laughter subsided to throaty giggles. The glow of the strange, spiky, prickly forest grew, curtains of spines trailing down to the divan as Alice watched the canopy above her. "Thank you," she finally whispered.

The shadow-creature hopped onto the divan, bending at the waist to peer closely at her face. It never allowed the teakettle that rest on the tabletop to slide an inch. Alice wondered if it had been a 'patient' at Kazan, too, and if it shared a soul with the divan. Or perhaps the table and divan were like Tweedledee and Tweedledum: a matched pair; brothers, perhaps.

Tentatively, it reached one of its shadow-feet to her face. Alice could barely feel it, and made no move to try to stop it from toeing her face. She didn't know if she even could, her whole body ached so badly. It seemed to be trying to scrub at her tears, as it had scrubbed at the tea on her dress. Alice smiled. "Some stains don't wash," she said softly. The thing seemed surprised. It had no facial features, only an outline of where its face and head should be. But it jerked back a little, then cocked its head to the side. It seemed to consider her statement a long while, as though it had never encountered the sentiment before.

Finally, and somewhat bashfully, the creature hopped off the divan and resumed skittering along silently behind it.

Alice stared at the canopy again. She thought of her brother, his soul here for ten long years. She wondered if he'd been treated well. She wondered if he'd been lonely. And in the Queen's court! What an atrocity.

She thought of the March Hare, and wondered why he would have killed the door mouse. She wondered how he had betrayed the Que—Faelyn? Should Alice call her that? Should she call her…mother? It was strange to do so, but no moreso than trying to think of Clarice as her mother.

And what of the Black Widow's claim? Alice did not trust her, but the thought of someone capable of…resurrecting…her mother…

It was a strange and frightening thought. What did they need Alice for? Resurrection did not bring good images to her mind. Given the chance, would she help give her mother life again? Alice thought that she would, and that she should. But she could not bring herself to believe that the Black Widow would help someone without demanding something in return. After all, she'd not only managed to somehow take Alice's ability to travel to Wonderland when she took Kitty in, but she'd turned Kitty into her errand-cat. It angered Alice deeply. She felt that her 9-year-old self had been betrayed by yet another stranger.

Alice's mind was slowing. The fear, panic and pain of the last…few minutes? Hours? Days? How long had she been in Wonderland? It was all gaining on her, making her entire being beg her to rest before the next beautiful, terrible, wonderful thing came along to tug at her heart strings.

As she drifted off, she thought of what Hatter had said. "Alice navigates her own way, and Wonderland bends to her." What a strange thing to say. Her cheeks grew rosy. She chose not to think of how silly it was to blush about the Mad Hatter now. She'd told her father that the Mad Hatter did not lie, that because he was mad, and had no need to lie. But he'd just told the Black Widow lie after lie after lie. Was he truly mad? Or did even mad people need to lie from time to time when it was important? She almost smiled, despite herself. So very, very tired.

Her eyes closed. She became insensible to the glowing forest around her, and the falling night. Just before sleep caught her, she wondered how the Duchess.

Above her on the back of the divan, the winged Alice-creature looked down at her. The Hatter-creature joined her. They fell into an embrace, watching Alice sleep.

"Sweet dreams, Alice-monster," the Alice-creature said.

"I will wait for you," the Hatter-creature whispered.

…………………………..

A.N. Oh. My. Gods. I really thought I was never going to finish this chapter. It's an amazing thing to continually get new reviews, to hear from fans that are still waiting for the next chapter, even as I wrestle with the characters, the wild land of Wonderland, and the motivations and secrets that keep them all spinning.

I wanted to do two more reviews of this chapter just to make everything PERFECT, but that's just too much time to ask of the people who are interested in what actually HAPPENS. Still, feel free to comment on anything wonky that catches your eyes.

And now, tokens of my undying love.

To:

-dani hyde : Reading your reviews as you went chapter by chapter was delightful! I hope you like this chapter, too! And, yes, I'm another lover of Labyrinth, but I'm sorry to say I haven't read it in years, and I don't remember her room very well. Lo siento!

-Cybernetic Mango : Biscuits. I miss biscuits. I haven't had any in the 7 months I've been in Argentina. Snapps want!!!

- stemilie69 : Hope this next one was also worth the wait! Thanks for being so patient thusfar.

-thechickenlittle : I did settle well here in Buenos Aires! And friends keep moving down here from my hometown of Austin, Texas. It's feeling more and more homey here. My Spanish is still laughable. *sigh *

- watergoddesskasey : Oh, how I dig being awesome. ^_^

- Viciously Witty : I was then and I am still looking forward to seeing Johnny Depp play the Mad Hatter in Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland. The movie isn't in theatres here, yet. It was so nice of Tim Burton to do a fan fiction movie based on my fan fiction story…and before I'd even finished it!

*wink *

- framedhim : I'm a shamefully slow updater, but I hope you're still willing to read along!

- SmeagulTheWeasul : Ooh, I devastated someone?! I'm not sure if that means I get a gold star or a swift kick in the butt…

- Alanna : sorry for the delay, but here you go!

- Indiana Smith : as requested, I'm continuing the story! Still so much to write…

- Labmama : I love him, too!

- Ellnidra : I'm glad you appreciate how closely I've tried to stick to Carroll's original works. It was so very important to me, because I've been a fan for so long of both of the stories. Can't tell you how many times I've re-read them to find new ways to introduce the characters from 11 1/2 years before!

- Alaksandra : As always, I love watching readers' reactions to individual chapters. And the thought of mad people roaming the streets of the real world because an asylum shut down makes me sad. I'd rather they had a wonderland, though one less hellishly dominated than mine.

- Flos : Not trying to MAKE people cry, but I certainly cry while I write. And I wanted to make everyone wait before Clarice got punched in the face, but I got so frustrated with her I did a double-punch on her. I get antsy.


	12. Chapter 12 Alice and Witch

**Alice and Witch**

Witch paced impatiently through her garden. The night blooming jasmine hid their pristine white petals 'neath their leaves, quivering a bit whenever she passed. The Century Plant, living up to his age in apparent years, unfurled his reeking black petals, giving the whole poisonous garden a foul stench. The oleanders puckered their petals, and entire mistletoe dug their way underground.

"For pity's sake, old man, close off! You'll wilt the whole garden!" Witch cried, stopping in her tracks and slapping both hands over her face to ward off the smell.

"In a moment, I'm sure I will," the Century Plant responded slowly, his deep voice cracking with age. At once flies from all about the garden made a bee-line to him as his rancid breath spread ever wider. "But first, dear lady, answer me this. Why in the name of the Four Suits are you tromping through our sanctuary like a Minotaur in his maze? This garden is barely hinged as it is. Why do you risk unsettling it?"

The Witch glared at the Century plant, her coppery-pink eyes squinting from the fume of the black bloom's putrescence. But he was right. Witch was throwing a nervous fit. Muffled through her hands, Witch's voice still came out as an impatient hiss. "She should be here by now. I've sent Hatta and the White Rabbit. I even sent that damned Cat. I can't send anyone else. Especially not…not if those three already failed somehow…"

Witch stamped her foot in frustration. The white apple trees spat their thousands of apple seeds off in every direction. Witch had to dive onto the path. Unlike apple seeds from Alice's side of the mirror, these seeds had far more than just traces of cyanide. They were veritable deadly poison darts. Two seeds tore through the Century Plant's leaves, but he shook their tattered remains unconcerned. Cyanide did little to plants like him.

Panting and heaving, Witch pulled herself up off the ground, frantically searching for holes in her limbs. Immediately the foul air made her gag.

The Century Plant took the opportunity to speak. "Your choice of escorts was uncommonly wise. The White Rabbit was the only one known to traverse the mirrors of his own free will…save Alice herself. Hatta is strong, and devoted to…the cause, let us say." The Century Plant smiled a wrinkled little knowing smile, folds of black petals pressing more folds of black petals across his ancient face. The flies ecstatically danced over the lines and folds, searching for the rotting, sulfurous carrion that his smell so resembled. "And there are few who know Wonderland so well or move through it with such impunity as the Cheshire Cat. If all of them, and Alice herself, cannot manage to make it through Wonderland just to here, then our cause is already lost."

The old black flower snapped his head down to his roots, then shot it back up. The entire poison garden rustled. Witch felt a strong sense of foreboding from the Century Plant's words. The whole of the poison garden was whispering…_Someone's coming…_

_*Please, oh please, spirits of this accursed land, tell me that's ALICE!* _

Witch dropped to her knees and immediately began scribing circles with one hand even as she kept her other hand clasped tight over her nose. She could not feel the subtle rumbles in the earth that announced someone coming, as could the roots of her sensitive garden, but she had other means of portent. Impatiently, she yanked a vial from around her neck and emptied its contents. If it turned her scrawled-out symbols red, there was trouble. If it turned blue…

Witch smiled. Her symbols glowed a faint sapphire. "Alice…"

Strange that it was so faint. With Cheshire, the White Rabbit and Hatta at her side, the ground should have been blazing. But no matter. That flickering glow was more hope than she'd had in so long…

Witch positively quivered in anticipation. They must be far off. That was the only explanation for the faint glow, and she'd have to wait. She could wait, couldn't she? She skipped along the near over-grown path, the Angel's Trumpet trumpeting in surprise as she rounded a corner, hand still clamped over her face. The Century Plant was right. Her garden _was_ on edge. But no matter now. She ducked a shot from the spines of the Brain Fever Cactus as she dashed through their plot, two of their spines sticking into the face of a very annoyed Nightshade.

Then she heard it, that scuttling. It sounded…

It sounded like her couch.

The red divan poked out from under the Oleander hedge, making its weary way to her. Clearly it had traveled far. The little table scuttled dutifully behind, Hatter's teapot resting prominently atop it. But Witch saw only Alice, her pale form draped from shoulder to black boot in a satiny-sapphire dress that Witch would have wept to have the chest to fill out. Her form was curled about Hatta's distinctive white jacket. Something was wrong with the way she lay, pain evident on her fitfully sleeping face, tears soaking one of the sleeves. _My_ but she was pale. Witch took in the waxed cheeks, the labored breathing, the sheer exhaustion in the poor girl's every feature.

She'd been poisoned. Clearly.

The divan stopped in front of Witch, then sagged, its clawed toes spreading gratefully against the ground. Witch traced her fingers lovingly against one of the arms of the divan, and bid the table set its top aside. She tapped her shoulder for the shadow-creature to sit atop it. But she never took her eyes from the sleeping Alice. The way the poor girl's fingers worked that jacket, the tightness in her shoulders…even now moving was difficult for her.

She was given Stone's Brew. Every painful contortion of the sleeping girl proclaimed the truth of it to the knowing eyes of Witch. Painful and awful, Stone's Brew was usually used to keep something still long enough to dispatch it or flee. It was one of the many potions she'd given Hatta to help him on his journey.

Witch's stomach turned sharply. Something had gone terribly wrong. But that was the nature of Hell—er—Wonderland. That's what this girl called this place. That's what all who stood against the wretch of the Queen of Hearts called it, because that's what they longed for it to be. It would never be safe, they all knew. But a place of more wonder than terror…now that was something to fight for.

Quickly, Witch reached into one of the thousands of pouches that hung from the woven rope belt slung about her hips. Her jostling rattled the little shadow-creature, but he seemed accustom to the way Witch moved, and managed his hold. Witch produced an amber vial, checked its clarity, then nodded to herself in satisfaction. She gingerly sat on the edge of the divan and lifted Alice's head into her lap. The poison garden rustled. Witch paid no heed. This time, she knew whose coming made it rustle.

The Griffon poked his curious beak out of the Oleanders. Witch looked up long enough to shoot him a look that brooked no interruption. The Griffon, no coward, just caught himself before stepping back. It was, after all, unwise to cross a witch, but his great pride would not allow him to stand down too obviously. Curious though he was at the new arrival to their sanctuary, he kept his silence and only watched.

Sensing the tightness in Witch's shoulders, the shadow creature hopped from her shoulder to the Griffon's back. The view was just as good.

Witch took no notice. She unstoppered the vial slowly, carefully, and tipped it delicately against Alice's lips. The pained sleeper moaned at being jostled, but did not wake. Witch rested one hand against her forehead, and emptied the contents of the vial into Alice's mouth with the other. The garden stilled to silence.

Alice choked, and Witch held her head gently but firmly. Alice's eyes fluttered open, and Witch caught her breath.

So long ago, she'd seen Alice. Her brilliant, inquisitive blue eyes were almost annoying then, but became enthralling in all too short a time. That was when Alice was a child.

Now, Alice the woman lay here, her eyes a deeper, haunted sapphire. Even her hair had darkened, and her skin had paled to almost sickly. She was the bright flame she'd been as a child, but brilliant blue and concentrated to a piercing starlight in an inky field. Those sapphire depths finally locked onto Witch's own eyes, and Witch dared not breathe.

Alice took in the platinum hair, short and a bit wild. Some bits were a bit longer than others, she noted slowly, her mind not sure if she were still in her tortured dreams. But the white ends of the hair curled just so…it was clearly a girl (no, a woman, Alice thought) but she had the hair one would find on the bust of a roman emperor, though more wild. Slowly, Alice took in the piercings on the ears, then the markings on the face. Clearly, the woman before her must be a gypsy or some such, for she had never seen so many colorful markings on a woman. Were they tattoos? The woman's neck was slung with a plethora of necklaces, all of them with totems or vials. Alice could make no sense of it. Her bare, golden arms, too, were covered in tattoos and strange bands and jewelry. Alice realized she must be in this woman's lap. She could not make out the woman's eyes, for the morning light was behind the woman's head. Morning? Was it morning?

"Am I dead?" Alice asked.

Witch finally let out her breath, and laughed heartily in relief. "Thank the Spades you're not!" Witch laughed. "Though if you were, then I suppose I am too, and that means we're in the same boat either way, doesn't' it?" She winked at Alice.

Alice finally caught the color of this strange woman's eye as her laughter made her shift. They were mercilessly pink with hints of copper, rimmed in solid black. Alice would have thought her Albino, save for the golden-brown skin. Her eyes widened, completely intrigued. It was only when the woman winked at her that Alice realized the impropriety of lying there in her lap. And something about that wink…

Alice sat up, gingerly at first. But she soon realized her limbs no longer hurt. "Oh blessed teacups! The pain's gone!"

Sitting next to her on the divan, Witch smiled, but it didn't last. "I can only imagine. You were, after all, poisoned."

The Griffon cried out in anger. He could keep silent no longer. "POISONED?"

Alice gasped in surprise, but recognized him instantly. "Griffon! Oh-oh…is it really you?" Alice hopped off the divan and dashed up to him, carelessly flinging her arms around the truly dangerous creature. The Griffon's surprise didn't show on his permanently hawk-scowling features, but his lion paws worked the ground nervously. Griffons did not get hugs.

Witch felt a little crushed. Was Alice not happy to see her, too? Of course not. How could she be. So much had changed. And Witch was not who she used to be.

Witch stood up a little awkwardly. The garden seemed to sigh in the light morning breeze, as if it, too, had been holding its breath. It was then the Witch realized the heavy stench had finally faded. Old Man Century must have finally closed off.

Alice stood back from Griffon for a moment, still obviously pleased. "Oh, my oh my! Is the Mock Turtle here as well?" she asked, looking about the garden for the first time.

The strange flowers, the overgrown rampage of plant growth and the predominance of spines on said plants seemed to have just dawned on Alice. Her brow furrowed.

"The Mock Turtle was taken long ago by the Queen of Hearts. Chances are his head rolled and the rest of him became turtle soup." The Griffon ruffled his great wings, but looked Alice dead on with his beady black eyes.

Alice blanched. The Griffon was not so poetic as he used to be. He was…changed. "Oh," she replied, rather at a loss for words. "Oh…"

"Come, Alice. We must make haste to the tower. It's time we made our plans," Witch said, beckoning to her.

Alice rather liked the feel of this woman. She suddenly realized the platinum-haired woman looked rather sad. But, still, Alice was supposed to be at the Duchess's home…

"Sorry, but I must get to the Duchess. It's where the divan was going to take me…" Alice started.

Witch cut her off, stamping her foot in agitation. "MORONS!" she yelled. She whirled on Alice. The White Apples made another try at peppering them with seeds, but Witch was too far at this point. Alice started in surprise.

"You mean to tell me that the name they used was _Duchess_ and not _Witch?_" she asked, hands firmly on her hips. Seeing Alice's shocked, confused face, Witch threw her hands up. "Of COURSE they did. Old fools and their old habits! Who says we don't age here, I ask you? They must be doddering by now." Witch paced. A few massive toadstools let off a burst of spores, momentarily clouding the air. "OH FOR THE LOVE OF TRINKLE! KNOCK IT OFF!" Witch admonished the poison garden.

Alice coughed. "Is it always so sensitive to your moods?" she asked.

"MY moods?" Witch asked, then paused, a bit taken aback. "Can't just be _my_ moods…it's a sensitive garden, is all. Anyway, don't breathe the spores. I cured one poison, but goodness only knows how much more abuse your frail body can take."

Alice glared at Witch, though she clapped the Mad Hatter's jacket to her face. _Frail?_ Well, she supposed she was, at least right now, but this strange woman didn't have to be so blunt about it.

Witch rolled her eyes at Alice's petulant eyes from behind Hatta's jacket. "Come on, let's get out of this. Couch, Treader, you two stay put and rest. Griffon, check the perimeter." Witch turned on her heel and took long strides back through the garden, her many layers of skirts swishing about her bare feet and her ankles tinkling softly with strange little charms.

"My, but she's pushy!" Alice complained through the muffle of the jacket. The Griffon snorted. "Just wait 'til she gets going! Especially now that you're here…" At this, he turned and made his way back through the Oleander.

Alice wasn't sure where she was, or what the tower was, or who this wild woman was, but she had no other choice. If she wanted to get to the Duchess…or the Witch….or whomever, this woman was the only one who'd help her.

She grabbed her jacket from the couch and tossed both hers and Hatter's over her arm, then chased after the strange woman. She couldn't help but notice how the garden bustled about the woman as she passed, but seemed to hardly notice Alice. Just 'sensitive' indeed! The garden was all but an extension of that woman! How could she not notice?

And yet…something about the woman's impatience, her authority, even her sweetness when Alice first awoke…it was almost familiar. But Alice was sure she'd recognize any denizen of Wonderland. After all, even when they changed, as the Caterpillar had, their faces were undeniable. This woman's face was new to her, she was sure.

It was then that the tower loomed into view.

Perhaps it had once been attached to some great castle that had long ago crumbled, and only the force of will of the tower itself kept it aloft. Wound tight with vines of somber gray and fiery amber, it was truly a sight to behold. The very top was open to the sky, with archer's windows all down its side. Considering that, at least from this side, it was also surrounded by this strange and forbidding garden, Alice imagined that it was highly defendable. She immediately approved of it.

Witch was standing impatiently at the massive portcullis. "Come quick now. I've not checked the mirrors. If there are more, I'll have to get them settled."

Alice stopped in her tracks. Mirrors? Hatter had mentioned the Duchess's mirrors…perhaps she was at the Duchess's home! But what if they were the mirrors that let in the Jabbermen…

Witch saw her hesitation. "I know it's not easy to see those that've just got here, Alice, but sooner or later you'll have to. Elsewise how will you be any help?" Witch held Alice's gaze steady, though her leg shook with impatience.

Alice felt she'd been put in place. She set her shoulders, absolutely certain that whatever she saw would terrify her. She was even more certain that seeing Jabbermen would be a relief to seeing 'those that've just got here.' The strange lady had to be talking about the patients that were…pushed…through the mirrors. Then she remembered how Hatter had thought that this was how Alice had come back and forth to Wonderland. "You know, erm…" Alice faltered for a name, but continued. "I've never been through those mirrors before. I've only been through…er…Faelyn's mirrors."

Alice wasn't sure why she'd just blurted out what might be important information to a stranger. She just felt so strongly that she must not disappoint the strange lady.

Witch stopped short, eyes bugging a bit. "Well THAT explains a lot!" she cried, clapping her hands together, then bending in a fit of laughter. "It's a wonder we had such a hard time tracing you, if you've never even been to Kazaan!"

Alice's face went cold. "That's not what I said."

Witch choked on her laughter. This girl's glare could freeze the heart. All the color that had come into Alice's face from the walk to the tower was gone, and she stood there, a pale statue with just enough hate to make you wonder she didn't just cut you down where you stood. But it wasn't Witch that inspired Alice's hate, of that she was sure. This was the hatred they all felt for Kazaan, magnified and focused through that singular sapphire gaze. Witch nodded in approval. "My mistake."

Up through the winding staircase she led Alice, only Alice's footsteps resounding in the cold tower. Witch's bare feet made no sound. No two stairs were the same height, width or breadth. It was all Alice could do not to tumble back down the stairs. This little fortress was impregnable in the oddest ways. They passed a few closed doors of various color, all cast in a different shade of marble or granite. Alice imagined they must be impossible to move.

Finally they came to a landing of some kind, though they were clearly nowhere near the top of the tower. Alice stopped. It was completely caged in, and there were skeletons all about the place.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Alice. It's been many years since Dr. Aranmula dared send one of his orderlies through here."

Looking at the piles of bones, Alice could understand why. She looked at the strange woman, and wondered if she'd been the one to end their lives. Seeing the way the woman kicked a femur out of her way to unlock the gate, Alice didn't doubt it. Death did not ruffle this woman's feathers. And by all accounts, she ruled a massive poisonous garden. This was a woman to be reckoned with. Despite Alice's misgivings, her admiration for this woman only grew. She felt a slight regret that she'd not been here when the orderlies were dispatched. She tried not to revel so much in the thought of killing those despicable excuses for humans herself. What would Hatter think, after all?

*_And just why the hell do I care about that?* _ a particularly furious part of her mind asked. Alice immediately shoved that to the back of her mind. There was no way she could cope with those thoughts right now.

Witch looked around the platform, then walked straight to a huge, ornate mirror. It made Alice shake. She wondered, if she touched it, would it be the same cold, awful, tremor-riddled wall she'd felt back in Kazaan? The wall they'd flattened her against, bound and gagged, time and time again, letting it rip at her soul, unable to go through…

Alice began to laugh. It was a strangled, awful sound.

"How funny! How very funny! All those years, I'd just wanted to come back to wonderland. And there was that Doctor Aranmula, trying so hard to grant me my wish! Killing me, over and over. We were both trying so hard to get me here. Hatter, the White Rabbit, Cheshire, the Duchess…everyone trying to get me here. Day after day, Doctor Aranmula was trying to grant our wish!" Alice doubled over in gales of rickety laughter.

Witch shivered involuntarily. She was used to psychotic laughter. Everyone in Wonderland was. For some reason, she never expected to hear it from sweet little Alice. She could scarcely stand to hear it from her at all. But what was she saying? "Alice, the Doctor tried to push you through the mirror? And the priest was there? I don't understand…why didn't it work?"

Alice sat on the floor gracelessly, snapping an entire foot of a skeleton to dust when her rump hit the stone floor. "How in blazes should I know? He's not a man to give up lightly though, I'll tell you!"

Witch laughed, too. "Obviously!" she exclaimed, gesturing at the piles of bones everywhere. The two women cackled mercilessly, wildly.

Witch wiped her eyes. "Still, it's a good thing he failed. You would not want to lose your body. It's not the same, even after you get it back. And losing it twice…"

Alice's face fell, sanity rushing back all too fast. Pieces started to click together in her mind. "You got your body back…" she asked.

Witch nodded jerkily. "They found me. Here in Wonderland. They hunted me down and found me. It wasn't hard. I was in the Queen's court, after all, and happy to do anything I was told. I also happened to house this mirror in my cottage at the time. It wasn't until I saw the orderlies that I struggled. But they had me. It took three days…three days, I think, to get me back into my body. Hard to tell." Witch picked up a skull that already had a few teeth smashed out and just looked at it. She looked at it a long time, as though she recognized it. The morbid piece of ex-humanity seemed to brighten her mood.

"But, why did they take you back through the mirror? Why are they sending people here in the first place?"

"I have my theories," Witch shrugged, tracing the jaw of the skeleton with a bronzed finger. "It probably started as a very convenient way to keep Dr. Aranmula's looney farm filled. If the patient becomes catatonic, families don't want them back. It's such a bore to care for them, you know? And that's what our bodies are, there in Kazaan. Aranmula caters to the wealthy and the easily embarrassed…those who will pay top dollar for a place to hide embarrassing family members."

Alice shook with quiet rage. Clarice and Aranmula were a match made in Hell.

"But there was one…interesting side effect. We never aged." Witch cocked her head to the side, as though that little bit still puzzled her. "Our bodies, lying there in that awful asylum, stayed youthful and fresh." Witch snorted humorlessly.

" Aranmula is nothing if not entrepreneurial. Why not cater to the wealthy, mad people who would never be put in his asylum against their will? He could offer them immortality…at a price. At a few prices. Hatter thinks that's where the Red and White King and Queen must have come from. Simple, really." Witch grabbed the femur she'd kicked aside earlier. Unapologetically, Witch tossed the skull up in the air and slammed the femur into it. The skull sailed across the room, then shattered to pieces against the ornate mirror.

"I've tried destroying it, by the way," Witch said, nodding at the mirror. "Impossible. Even with my magic."

Alice looked the woman up and down. "Are you the Witch, then?" she asked.

Witch laughed. "Yes, Alice. I'm Witch."

"I didn't meet you last time I was here. It's a shame. I think we would have got on well…" Alice trailed off. Did she imagine it, or was there a moment of some emotion flickering over Witch's face? "Still, they sent you back here again…why?"

Witch shrugged, bothered. "I was the only successful experiment that I know of. Everyone else died when they tried to reunite the soul on this side of the mirror with the body on that side. So they finally sent me back here again, trying to study what made me a success. This way, they could make the process easier for the wealthy who wanted to leave their bodies young, then return to them later."

Alice was horrified. "But…how many…how could they…"

Witch looked surprised. "How could they? Well, the doctor and the priest in particular have no conscience. I'm sure you know."

Alice said nothing.

"And what's the death of a few catatonics in an asylum anyway? So long as they chose their candidates well. Urchins who'd 'disappeared', like me. Children whose death would come as a relief to their families, like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum."

Alice cried out. "But…but they were just little boys! So strange, so…"

Alice jumped up, pacing in fury. She marched over to the pile of bones and began furiously stomping them with her feet. "Viscious—Filthy—Awful—Sick—BASTARDS!" she screamed. Shards, dust, and bits of rotted flesh still clinging to bone flew out from under the heel of her boot. Witch just watched.

"HOW COULD YOU?" she finally screamed at the scattered pile, angry tears burning down her face. The skulls just grinned back.

Alice sniffled, her passion spent. "And what of the Cook?" She dare not ask about the Duchess again, lest she incur the ire of Witch.

Witch watched Alice a moment longer. The Cook. She sighed, her shoulders heavy with sadness. "Beheaded by the Queen not too long after you left. She needed someone to punish for your defiance. The Cheshire Cat or the Duchess were obvious choices, but she wasn't allowed to touch the Duchess, and the Cheshire Cat was too slippery."

"Oh. Oh, dear," Alice whispered, her hands flying to her soaked cheeks. She hiccuped. "I never meant to cause…any of that…I never really…" Alice thought she might be sick.

But Witch cut her off sternly. "See here, Alice. A knee-high child cannot control the raving, murderous Queen. You toppled the entire deck once, nearly ripped the reign of the Queen of Hearts from her grasping hands right there. What you did was marvelous, strange, and accidental."

Witch was pacing now, running her hands through her short locks in agitation. "And it was more than any of us has had the sanity to do in….so long. It's one of the many reasons we tried so hard to get you back."

Witch's coppery pink eyes searched about the room, as though trying to find something on hand to help explain. But the bones and the mirror were little help.

Alice only watched. She kept her bile in check, grateful for Witch's words. The silence stretched a bit, then she finally managed to whisper, "You keep saying 'we'. How many are there of you, trying to…erm…_topple_ the Queen of Hearts?"

"Topple? That's a nice way to put it. I'd like to break her fat neck, just below that third chin." Witch retorted.

Alice couldn't help it. She giggled. The Queen _did_ have a few spare chins…

Witch smiled back at the sapphire girl. Something about her smile made Alice uncomfortably intrigued.

"Well, besides you, there's Hatta, Cheshire Cat, the White Rabbit, the Griffon, all the garden here…well…save for those snobby little roses."

Alice laughed again. She remembered the rose. She'd called Alice a weed. *Cheeky bitch.* Alice thought, rather gracelessly.

"Then there's the Bumble Bee, and perhaps the Lion and the Unicorn...though we doubt they'll get on well enough to help us. The White King would be a great help, if he ever gets over the loss of the White Queen."

"What about the White Knight?" Alice asked.

"Hmm…don't know him. Don't even know if he's alive or dead or changed. Never can tell, here." Witch sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "In any case, there's always more coming!" Witch grinned lopsided, looking hopeful.

Alice decided Witch was rather like a tomboy. A very lovely, exotic kind of tomboy.

"Right, well, there's no one come through yet." Witch said, dusting her skirts a bit hap-hazardly. "Hardly ever anyone coming through, but if they do come, it's always at the most inconvenient time, and I hate leaving them locked up in here. It's grim enough to have your soul ripped out, but the corpses are only comforting to those who recognize the orderlies' uniforms. Even then, some are softer about the heart than you and I." Witch cocked her head to the side, considering Alice.

"Yes," Alice agreed. "I imagine most everyone is softer about the heart than I." *_Hatter would certainly agree, _* she thought.

Witch noticed the dark look passing over Alice's face, but made no mention of it. Witch had a way of letting the things on hand speak for her. That breeze that came through the grated window in the wall seemed to answer approvingly. It was so well-timed and so much a part of the way everything here seemed to react to Witch, that Alice took it for an answer.

Witch took Alice by the hand and led her out of the caged platform that housed the mirror, and back down the stairs. On the floor just below, Witch stopped. She pulled one of the totems from around her neck, and unwound the cord. It looked like tiny snake, coiled and ready to strike. Witch muttered something beneath her breath, then stuck the totem to the door. Alice could see no handle, no lock. When Witch withdrew her hand, the totem stayed. Witch touched the cord of the necklace to the little totem, then stepped away from the door with the other end of the cord. She yanked on the cord and grabbed Alice's arm. "Hold on!"

Like a spring pulled too taut, the cord snapped the two women back toward the door. Alice was sure they were going to slam into the door, but she heard a slight hiss, and then they were on the other side of the door. It took Alice a moment to catch her footing, but then she lost her breath.

This room was…magnificent. Morning sun…or was it evening sun?...streamed in through the archer's window. Tables were strewn about the room and on the walls. Wait…on the walls? "How very peculiar," Alice murmured.

"Isn't it, though?" Witch said, beaming proudly. She was gathering up the string and totem.

At first, Alice thought the walls were covered in ornate tapestries. She looked closer, the truth of it making her eyes go wide. Herbs and poisonous plants and strange berries were drying all about the room, woven cleverly together and tied with died bits of string, hair and woolen yarn. Alice could make out scenes of barbaric hunting, women dancing in the moonlight, and strange creatures reveling in food and wine.

A cauldron hung over the fireplace, whispering its bubbly chorus, spewing the occasional cloud of pink or green smoke. Alice had the oddest feeling it was chuckling at her. There were candles on almost every surface, every one of them carved with some rune or strange language. Witch walked by a few, then stopped, turned around, and glared back at the candles. They begrudgingly lit themselves.

Witch rolled her eyes. "I go out for two minutes, and the candles get an attitude. The candles! That's thanks for you," she grumbled, stomping over to the cauldron and stirring. "Oh, but YOU'VE been lovely!" she praised the cauldron. "Just about perfect, aren't you!" The cauldron gurgled back shyly. Hints of cloves, citrus and nutmeg wafted over Alice.

Alice was overwhelmed. She just knew that everything in the room was alive somehow. It made her wonder. Which were the poor prisoners of Kazaan, and which were already a part of Wonderland? What was Wonderland? She shook her head. Too much. Wonderland, Witch, poor Kitty, the great mirror upstairs, that wicked Black Widow woman, nevermind the Queen of Hearts…

The Mad Hatter.

Tears were streaming down her face before she realized it. She knew she'd slept on the way here, but she was just so exhausted. Her body no longer hurt from the poison, but she suddenly felt the wear of it all. Her tantrum in the bone pile had only temporarily revived her. She longed to just collapse. Through the blur of her tears, she saw Witch approaching with a steaming bowl of some kind. It smelled of the cloves from the cauldron. Hastily, Alice wiped at her tears, embarrassed that she'd suddenly been overcome in front of Witch.

Witch set the bowl on a table on the wall nearby. The bowl didn't spill, despite being set down sideways onto the table surface. Wordlessly, she put one hand to Alice's elbow and the other to the small of her back, gently ordering her to the chair. Alice wasn't sure how she'd managed to start walking on the wall, but she didn't question it. She sat at the chair, on the wall, and watched the fire burning sideways. Witch set one of Alice's hands against the bowl, silently urging her to drink. Her hands were cool, and felt soft against Alice's tired fingers.

Witch strode to the window and gave a sharp whistle. Even from this distance, Alice could hear rustling from the garden below. She tiredly picked up the bowl, its warm wood comforting. She sipped. It was all the flavor of a November evening. The cool citrus was the night air, the warm spices rolled over the tongue the way heat from a fireplace rolled over the skin. There were deeper flavors that filled Alice's mouth and belly like a rich meal. Was that chocolate under the cloves? Alice's eyes rolled back. Truly this was a magic brew.

"_Do you always drink what you're given in Wonderland?_" Hatter had asked not so long ago. *Oh, yes,* thought Alice. Tears were still rolling down her cheeks. Sadness mixed with exhaustion and relief, all piled on top of the terror and beauty that was Wonderland. *I'll drink almost anything that doesn't come from your lips, Hatter. And I'll drink anything this woman gives me,* she thought.

At least she thought she was just thinking these things to herself. Apparently not…

Witch was watching the young woman, all pale and draped in sapphire, amber hair and red-rimmed eyes. She heard her soft whispers as she drank Witch's brew. She sounded sad, yet ecstatic.

"I'll drink almost anything that doesn't come from your lips, Hatter," she heard Alice whisper. What was that all about? Something in the pit of Witch's stomach twisted. Alice had been poisoned by someone, and Witch had given Hatter the Stone's Brew herself.

"And I'll drink anything this woman gives me." Witch flushed. Clearly Alice was out of her mind with exhaustion. Even poison that had been treated with antidote wrecked the body. But Witch took the compliment. She didn't get many, up here in her tower.

There was a skittering behind the door. Witch muttered something strange at the door, and Couch came through, followed as always by the little shadow-creature, Treader. Alice watched, sniffling a bit, realizing that they must have been what Witch had whistled for. The Couch went straightaway to a spot near the edge of the room that seemed fit for him. It was all very confusing for Alice, watching from the wall at the wrong angle. Treader cozied up in front of the Couch, retrieving his table top. For the first time, Alice noticed that Hatter's cane was still on the divan…er…Couch.

"What's this, now?" Witch asked, picking it up.

"It's the Caterpillar's cane," Alice said.

"But it looks like…Jester! Did Jester become a caterpillar?" Witch asked.

"Yes. And then a butterfly," Alice smiled. Then her face fell again.

Witch watched. Clearly, much had happened on the road back from Alice's side of the mirror.

"Why do you call it Couch, when it's a divan?" Alice asked.

"It's a couch, it's a divan, it's a bed, sometimes it's an armchair. It's whatever it pleases. I call it the Couch because that's what it was when we met."

*Simple enough,* Alice decided.

The platinum-haired woman rested the cane against the side of the couch, then marched across the room to Alice. "Drink up," she commanded. Alice willingly obliged. She wanted to savor it, but clearly there was much to be done, and she shouldn't dally over her drink, no matter how heavenly. The second the last drop passed Alice's lips, Witch gently but forcefully pulled Alice up from her chair. Standing on the wall was more disorienting than sitting, especially now that most of Alice's tears were dry.

Witch led Alice down the wall, onto the floor, then over to the Couch. Alice blushed at the care she was being given, but shook her head. "I can't rest just yet. Witch, there's so much I need to tell you!"

Witch cut her off, pulling Alice down to sit next to her on the Couch. Her pink eyes hardened as she locked eyes with Alice's sapphire ones. "You can start by telling me why Hatter poisoned you."

...

A/N: WOOOW! This has been the hardest chapter so far. I have 3 chapters after this all but finished, but getting from the forest to those future chapters has my head spinning!

We've successfully moved to Mendoza, Argentina. Said our goodbyes to Buenos Aires, and now we're enjoying the bodegas here next to the Andes mountains. Next week we'll be traveling in Chile for a couple of days. I hope we stay in Mendoza at least 6 months. It's so hard to keep up with my writing when I move around so much.

Love to all my serial reviewers! I'll be spending some of the weekend just responding to reviews.

-Snapps

…


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